


Remember Us

by Cat_as_Trophy



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post Pandemic, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, An Attempt At Scientifically Explaining Everything, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Business Student Dowoon, College Professor Sungjin, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Kindergarten Teacher Wonpil, Lab Assistant Alex, M/M, Mentions of Death, Minor Character Death, Neurologist Brian, Panic Attacks, Racism, Research Scientist Jae, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, mentions of body mutilation, mentions of depression and anxiety, mentions of trauma, mentions of world politics (mostly made-up)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:02:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 67,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23935024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_as_Trophy/pseuds/Cat_as_Trophy
Summary: Everything hurts. Every inch of his body is numb. The gun in his hand feels like it’s attached to his arm, maybe by the blood coating it. Jae keeps walking. He’s been walking without a destination for hours now. He can’t feel his feet anymore. He can’t feel anything. He did this. He killed them. All of them. He will never forget the looks on their faces as he shot them down. Did he even hesitate? No, he did hesitate. He did... But even as they died, they still had it in them. The same human look. The one they used to have before getting infected.Jae stops and glances at his own forearm. His eyes are glassy, he looks and yet he doesn’t see. On his arm, the scratch wound is already turning black and purple. Maybe he should’ve just let them kill him. Maybe it would’ve been easier not to fight.The gun drops from his hand as he gasps for air. It’s happening. He’s becoming one of them. All of this had been for nothing. In his last moments before passing out, Jae closes his eyes and, in his mind, he sees him - his last hope.“... Brian...”
Relationships: Alexaundra "Alex" Christine Schneiderman | Kim Seri | AleXa/Original Character, Kang Younghyun | Young K/Park Jaehyung | Jae, Kim Wonpil/Yoon Dowoon, Park Sungjin/Original Character
Comments: 61
Kudos: 76





	1. Now Come One, Come All To This Tragic Affair

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and welcome to the end :)  
> The title of this fic is taken from Day6's album Remember Us: Youth Part 2 (if you haven't yet, go listen to it, I promise you won't regret it)~  
> The title of the chapter is taken from My Chemical Romance's song "The End". It felt appropriate.  
> Come and scream at me on Twitter: Cat_as_Trophy_  
> Enjoy~

Everything hurts. Every inch of his body is numb. The gun in his hand feels like it’s attached to his arm, maybe by the blood coating it. Jae keeps walking. He’s been walking without a destination for hours now. He can’t feel his feet anymore. He can’t feel anything. He did this. He killed them. All of them. He will never forget the looks on their faces as he shot them down. Did he even hesitate? No, he did hesitate. He did... But even as they died, they still had it in them. The same human look. The one they used to have before getting infected.

Jae stops and glances at his own forearm. His eyes are glassy, he looks and yet he doesn’t see. On his arm, the scratch wound is already turning black and purple. Maybe he should’ve just let them kill him. Maybe it would’ve been easier not to fight.

The gun drops from his hand as he gasps for air. It’s happening. He’s becoming one of them. All of this had been for nothing. In his last moments before passing out, Jae closes his eyes and, in his mind, he sees him - his last hope.

“... Brian...”

-x-x-x-x-

Two months earlier

“Jae!”

Jae leans back from the microscope he’d been glued to for the past couple of hours, squeezing his eyes shut for a second, as the white light from the lab momentarily blinds him.

“Hm.” He offers a hum as a reply, barely sparing a glance at the newcomer.

At the age of 27, Park Jaehyung is a simple man, working a humble job in a medical research laboratory. Most of his days are spent in this same room, situated on the third floor of one of the most prestigious hospitals in Seoul. He’s worked hard to be where he is today, specializing in not one, but two areas – both **Hematopathology** and **Immunopathology**. As of now, he’s in charge of everything regarding medical and scientific research, and experiments. Even though it can get to be a lot, he wouldn’t trade it for the world. He’s also in charge of bringing research degree students into the lab and ordering them around from time to time, so they can get a taste of what they will be doing in the future, granted they choose to pursue the job.

The young woman who had disrupted his work, Alex, doesn’t wait for permission and simply walks in, as she usually does. Jae had given her the position of being his assistant about three months prior, when the job offers had started opening up again, after the pandemic wave had finally died down. She too, used to be a student Jae had admitted into his lab, but since she’d graduated last year, he’d been kind enough to offer her a job. He regrets it every day.

“What is it, Alex?” Jae asks, turning to look at her with a frown. Jae likes her a lot, sure, but he’s still her boss, he would also appreciate some respect. None of the other four people in the lab seem surprised by her actions either, probably having gotten used to her outbursts by now.

“Sorry.” She says, not sounding sorry at all. “Look at this.” Alex puts her laptop down on the vacant space of Jae’s counter and turns the screen towards him. As usual, she’s wearing two hair buns, with half her hair down – something Jae’s quite sure she does to make herself look a tad taller, though she’s still a good ten or so inches shorter than him.

Jae blinks a few times before he focuses on what’s in the screen Alex shoves in front of him.

“What am I looking at exactly?” He questions, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

On the screen there is a paused video of... an American newscast? Jae is confused. Sure enough, both of them have their respective American backgrounds, but Jae doesn’t keep much track of their news – safe for the political, scientific, and medical ones. On the screen however, is the image of what looks like an amateur video.

“Something really fucking weird happened in California, and Minho doesn’t believe my theory.” She answers, and Jae asks himself why he even gave her the job in the first place – or rather, he knows why, it’s because she’s damn good at it, but there are times...

“Alex, what the fuck.” Jae breathes out, going back to look at the zoomed image of a cancerous lung cell.

“No, wait. Look at it first.” She begs, shaking his shoulder until Jae gives up. He sighs.

“You’re not gonna leave me alone until I do, will you?”

Alex grins proudly.

“Don’t ask if you already know. Now watch.”

She hits play before Jae can protest any further.

At first, Jae does his best to maintain a cool, bored expression, but as the video progresses, he can’t help but frown at what he’s seeing.

“Is this legit?” He asks, unsure whatever’s going on is even possible.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Alex nodding in excitement.

“Right?! I wondered the same thing! But it’s everywhere, it’s gotta be real.”

The video, shot by an anonymous source, starts with a middle-aged woman standing outside her house in the garden, seemingly calm. It’s being shot from the first or second floor of the house next to hers, so Jae assumes the people taking the video are her neighbors. Out of nowhere, the woman begins spasming, as if she’s having a stroke. It could easily be dismissed as one, were it not for what follows. The woman drops to the floor, and the video zooms in on her body – leave it to Americans to film a person dying instead of calling them an ambulance. The woman’s visible skin, on her arms and legs, begins turning veiny and pale, and weirdly wrinkled, as if it’s about to fall off at any moment. Not two seconds later, the woman wakes up again, looking peaceful as ever. That is, until she sees her own exposed arms, and begins panicking all over again. For a second diagnosis, Jae would say this could be some really severe reaction to poison, or even an extreme allergic reaction, but those conclusions are quickly put aside too.

A man walks into the frame, and even though they seem to know each other, the second he runs towards the woman it’s like the whole atmosphere changes. She attacks him, squeezing his neck so tightly it breaks. Jae frowns as he watches this scene.

“What the fuck...” He mutters, now fully invested and also mildly concerned. In front of him, Alex snorts.

“You haven’t seen the half of it.”

And he really hasn’t, because next thing he knows, the crazy woman is screaming and pulling the man up by his shoulders, smashing his dead body against the ground. She repeats the same movement, again and again, and when it doesn’t seem to satisfy her, she grabs the dead man’s head and starts bashing it on the stone ground, until blood starts pouring out of his skull, and his surroundings become covered in red.

The person recording the video must remember in that moment they should probably call the police, because they – it sounds like a male voice and, again, Jae isn’t surprised – shout for another person to _“call the ******* cops, dude!”_ , and then proceeds to keep filming. By now, the crazy woman has managed to open up the dead man’s skull, and is now—

“What the fuck?!” Jae looks away in disgust for a second. “Is this a joke?”

“I promise it’s not a joke!” Alex is quick to reply, probably suddenly scared Jae might send her back to collecting poop samples (those had been difficult times for her).

Tentatively, Jae looks at the screen again. There are policemen surrounding the woman now, and they’re threatening to fire.

The crazy woman seems to be getting even more insane, and just as she makes to get up, two of the policemen shoot her – a bullet through the stomach and one through the head. The woman falls lifeless on the ground and the video comes to an end.

Jae realizes he’d been leaning forwards on the counter and pulls himself back, sighing as he processes whatever the fuck he’s just watched.

“That… was fucking insane.” He says, at last. Alex nods, a bit too excited for his liking.

“Right?!” She agrees. “Now, tell me. What would you say that was?” She asks, squinting at Jae as if trying to intimidate him, but it only makes his frown deepen.

“I have no fucking clue, I’d need to have a look at her body, probably run a few tests.” He shrugs, beginning to reorder his utensils on the counter and hoping Alex gets the message. She, of course, glances at his hands and pointedly ignores his signals.

“Oh, please,” She begs, albeit with a hint of teasing, “humor me. Come on. The woman had wrinkled ash pale skin and super strength.” She notes, and Jae crosses his arms over his chest. “She killed a man with her bare hands, and then _ate his brain_. Come on!” Alex gestures with her arms to emphasize her points. Jae can’t help but to snort.

“You can’t be serious.” Is all he tells her, going back to observe his much friendlier and considerate cancerous cell. Alex rolls her eyes at him, pushing him away from the microscope.

“Dude, come on.” She switches to English. “It was a zombie, even you can’t deny it.”

“I can, and I will. There’s no such thing as “zombies”, Alexandra.” He even uses air commas to get his point across to her – he calls her by her full name just to tease her.

“Ugh, you’re no fun.” Alex complains, back to Korean. Jae gapes at her.

“Excuse me? I’ll have you know I’m plenty of fun.” He counters, then remembers they’re in a lab and not in some coffee shop, and pulls himself back together. “Anyway, that has nothing to do with this. Please stop with the apocalyptical theories, will you?” He asks, though it sounds more like an order.

“Alright, but don’t come crying at me when the zombies attack you.” Alex jokes, blowing him a raspberry.

Jae throws his arms up “I give up, there’s no dissuading you.” He sighs, switching off his microscope – an old habit of his, even if the hospital administration keeps insisting he doesn’t have to – and pushing himself away from the counter. “I’m taking 5.” He announces, then glares. “Have you organized—”

“—and triple checked all of this week’s experiment results?” Alex interrupts, then grins sheepishly and does a sloppy continence. “Sir, yes sir!” She replies. Jae fears his eyes will end up getting stuck in the back of his head with how much he rolls them at her.

“Good. If that’s so, you can go and annoy someone else for the next ten minutes.” He grants, the corners of his lips betraying him as he smiles at her reaction.

“Thanks Jae!”

He watches her leave the lab, scampering away from sight, before he’s finally left alone with his own thoughts (and the other four people also working in the lab, though they very pointedly ignore his misery).

Sure enough, the video Alex had shown him had been weird as fuck. And sure, something completely insane had to have happened to make that woman turn almost into a wild animal.

Alex’s diagnosis is, of course, completely ruled out - there are no such things as zombies, that’s just a fact.

And still...

Jae shakes his head, trying to rid himself of needless thoughts. He decides what he really needs right now, is coffee.

As per usual, he bypasses the lab floor’s coffee room, scurrying for the elevator before any of his coworkers spot him.

When the elevator doors close behind him, Jae can finally breathe out in relief – mission accomplished.

Okay so, the main reason he prefers drinking his coffee in a different floor from the one he works in isn’t so much for the coworkers he might find there as it is for the fact other floors have better coffee. Also, he thinks, as he reaches the Neurology floor, he might see Brian.

He nods his head at a few nurses he recognizes before he finally reaches the coffee room. Jae takes a deep breath by the open door, smelling the cheap burned coffee and the greasy preheated croissants. It’s smells like Heaven to him.

“Oh, you’re here too.”

Jae shivers as the voice speaks so closely to him, he can almost feel the person’s breath on the back of his neck.

When he turns around, Brian is sporting a smug smile.

“Yeah, and what of it?” He throws back, knowing Brian won’t take it in a bad way, as he crosses his arms over his chest. Brian, as expected, only chuckles, nodding at Jae to walk in in front of him. Jae does.

“Rough day?” Brian guesses, gesturing for Jae to take a sit and walking towards the coffee machine. Almost automatically, he presses twice on the option for the double-shot Americano with a pinch of sugar. Feeling the familiarity, Jae sighs, finally loosening up as he leans back on the chair.

“Tiring. Yours?” He returns the question, wincing slightly as Brian visibly deflates. He grabs the two cups, now filled with scalding coffee, and hands one of them to Jae, who immediately drinks a sip, dismissing the burning sensation it causes.

“Boring.” Brian shrugs at last, taking a sit in front of Jae, who understands way too well what he means.

“Thank fuck for the coffee.” Jae holds his cup up for a second, looking at it like it’s a gift from above. Brian chuckles, but holds up his own cup too.

“Cheers to that.”

They drink in silence for a moment, appreciating the quiet and attempting to regain a hint of their energy.

With nothing better to do, Jae lets his eyes trail back to Brian, studying for a second the black locks of hair, slightly parted so his forehead is kind of visible, falling just short of his eyebrows – it’s shorter than before, Jae notes, smiling to himself as he recalls telling the younger to cut his hair the week before. His own hair is a whole dark brown mess, with a few random blond dyed highlights – he still doesn’t know why he did it, but when asked, he blames it on his pre-thirties life crisis yelling at him to go nuts while he can still afford to dye his hair without going bald.

Jae finally looks away from Brian, suddenly aware he’d been staring for a couple of minutes already, and finds his cup of coffee empty. He silently curses it for being so small, and as he does, Brian snorts. Jae of course, turns his glare towards him, but he can’t stay mad for long.

He remembers then, the reason he’d gone for a break in the first place, and he can’t help the sigh that escapes his lips.

“Ugh, you have no idea what Alex showed me today.”

Brian raises an eyebrow, clearly amused already. Jae pretends he doesn’t notice.

“What?” He asks. Jae places his cup on the table and puts both elbows down, resting his face on top of his hands.

“If you guess it right, I’ll buy you ramen from that place you like.” He proposes, smirking when Brian’s eyes glint at the mention of food. He’s never gonna guess it, anyway.

“Can I at least have a hint?”

“Nope. I’ll give you three tries though.” Jae holds up three fingers as he speaks.

“Alright. Was it a new trailer for one of those sci-fi movies you hate?” Brian guesses. Jae nods absentmindedly – it could’ve been, Alex is always showing him those.

“No.” He denies, the corners of his lips turning upwards as Brian frowns. Jae pulls a finger down. “You have two tries left.”

“Hmm.” Brian rubs his chin in thought. “Oh, what about the new compilation of funny cat videos that YouTuber she likes posted?” He tries again, and Jae furrows his eyebrows, because _what_?

“... Dude. What the fuck?” He replies, not really knowing how to react to this. Brian suddenly looks very hopeful.

“Was that it?” Even he looks surprised.

Jae snorts.

“No, just... why do you know that?” He asks amusedly. Brian simply shrugs.

“What? It came up on the feed.” He justifies, though Jae doesn’t believe him for a second. Brian totally would watch those cat videos for fun – that’s just the kind of person he is.

“Pfft okay, whatever. It’s wrong and you only have one more try left.” Jae dismisses, pulling down another finger so that only his index one is left standing up. Brian pouts – it’s cute.

“What about...” He seems to think for a while before his frown turns into a smirk. “That zombie clip from today’s news in America?”

Jae’s eyes widen in shock.

“You knew?!” He speaks louder than intended, but fuck, how did he even know that?

Brian just chuckles, shaking his head at Jae’s reaction.

“She showed it to me earlier this morning.” He explains. It’s Jae’s turn to pout as he leans back down on his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

“That little fucker.” He mutters. Brian cackles loudly.

“I win then.” He sing-songs proudly. Jae’s eyebrows shoot up at it.

“Wait, no! You knew already, you were just playing dumb. So the deal is off.” Jae crosses his arms over his chest, as if to look determined.

“You never mentioned I couldn’t know the answer previously.” Isn’t that a given though, Jae wonders. “Or are you actually gonna back out?” Brian asks, and the challenging tone of his voice has Jae squinting his eyes at him, but before long, he sighs in defeat.

“Ugh, fine. I’ll treat you to ramen, you win.” Jae gives in. Brian beams.

“Nice, thanks, hyung!”

“Don’t you ‘hyung’ me, like you’re so innocent.” Jae accuses, and of course, Brian’s grin turns into a smirk, the asshole.

“What do you mean, hyung?” He feigns ignorance. Jae thinks up a quick way to erase the smug look off of his face.

“Don’t be an ass, or I’ll revoke your free pass card.” He threatens, pointing his index finger at Brian, who becomes serious the same second.

“You wouldn’t.” He frowns. Jae raises an eyebrow, not so playful anymore, huh BriBri?

Brian’s free pass card is not a card at all, it’s simply a deal the two of them have, where Jae will write reports Brian should be writing (granted the younger provides him with all the information required), while Brian has to do whatever Jae asks in exchange. It usually includes paying for food or helping out with cleaning, be it at the lab or at Jae’s place, whatever requires more tending. Jae actually doesn’t mind doing him these little favors, since he gets to learn a few things along the way – and also, Brian already works so hard, sometimes Jae does it just to make sure the younger sleeps.

“I would.” He’s not serious, obviously, but Brian does hate writing those reports.

“Jaaaeeee… please don’t, you know how much I hate those reports.”

Jae smirks.

“Oh, I’m well aware, BriBri.” He teases, and Brian pouts, resting his forehead on top of the table.

“I hate you.”

Jae laughs, standing up. It’s been at least ten minutes; he needs to go back before Alex comes find them. “Sure you do.”

Brian only glares, chin still on the table, but Jae winks at him. “Pick you up at eight. Don’t be late.” By “pick you up”, Jae means he’ll stop by the Neurology floor and from there they’ll get to the restaurant together.

Brian’s face lights up at that and he straightens back on his chair.

“For ramen? Never.”

Jae rolls his eyes at him, putting back his chair.

“For our date, you mean.” He corrects, chuckling when Brian grimaces.

“My only love is food.” Brian states, getting up as well. Jae believes it, and yet the need to keep teasing him overthrows anything else.

“Keep telling yourself that, honey.”

The way Brian rolls his eyes makes Jae throw his head back in laughter.

“Get out of here already.”

The rest of the day is pretty uneventful, as Jae pretty much isolates himself in his lab, focusing all of his time and attention in concluding this particular exam – for a patient who’d been claiming to have severe breathing problems and chest pains. Well, too bad for them, smoking was probably not the smartest choice they ever made.

When he eventually glances back at the big round clock placed high up on the wall, he curses.

“Shit!”

He’s quick to turn off his digital equipment and throwing his lab coat into the laundry basket by a corner of the room – the lab coats are always washed at the day of the day, just for precaution – practically bolting out the door and almost forgetting his glasses on the counter.

Of course, the elevator is being used, so Jae waits for a minute (that feels more like an hour), before he’s finally making his way to the Neurology floor. Thankfully, he’s alone in the elevator, so he takes a moment to check his appearance on its mirror – not that he cares what Brian thinks, he just doesn’t want to look like he’s just ran a marathon. His hair looks a bit messy – nothing a bit of hand combing can’t solve – but other than that, he decides he looks okay.

The doors open, and just as he walks out, he sees Brian, already in his day to day clothes, leaning against a wall of the corridor with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks at Jae, and when their eyes meet, he smiles. Jae snorts – does he think he’s a model or something?

“There’s a chair _right there_.” Jae points next to where Brian is standing. Brian, however, just smiles smugly.

“Yeah, but what’s the impact of that?” He replies, then lets his arms fall to his sides. “Got caught up in work or what?” He wonders, as they wordlessly begin making their way to the parking lot.

“Nah, just lost track of time. Sorry about that.” Jae shrugs. Brian feigns a sniff.

“Ouch. I can’t believe you. Telling me not to be late then arriving fifteen minutes late yourself.” Brian shakes his head in disbelief as he speaks. “I’m ordering a double dose of ramen just for that.”

Jae rolls his eyes at him, but doesn’t deny him the food either.

Jae fights back a snort at the way Brian closes his eyes and takes in the smell of the freshly made Udon ramen.

“You better enjoy it,” He warns jokingly “see if I ever treat you to ramen again.”

Brian pouts but Jae notes the hint of teasing in it.

“Ah, but hyung, you lost the deal.” He sing-songs, smirking as he picks up his chopsticks and renge spoon. “I-ta-da-ki-masu~”

Jae’s glare only deepens when Brian keeps smirking as he pronounces the Japanese word as slow as he can.

“You’re annoying.” Jae accuses, picking up his own chopsticks and taking a spoonful of noodles to his mouth. Brian snorts.

“You’re annoying.” He repeats, in an intentionally annoying voice. Jae slurps his noodles aggressively.

In Brian’s defense, this ramen place is very good. It’s also rather expensive, but luckily for Jae, money isn’t a problem - at least not anymore - so when the check comes and Jae takes out his wallet to pay for the two of them, Brian simply grins like a toddler.

Jae rolls his eyes at him, but still lets himself smile too - they’ve been having so much work lately that hanging out like this, over dinner, has become very rare. Jae’s missed this, he realizes.

“Hyung? You okay?” Jae looks up at Brian’s frown, and oh, he must’ve let that final though across. Jae puts a smile back on as quickly as possible.

“Yeah, I was just—” Jae cuts himself off - not only because he hadn’t come up with a proper excuse yet, but also— “What the fuck.” He mutters, wide eyes locked in on the TV behind Brian’s back.

Confused, but aware of this, Brian turns around. “What is it?”

Jae can tell the second Brian notices it too, as he watches his back stiffen through his shirt.

It’s still early - they both have work in the morning and they do not want to look like shit the next day. The point is, it’s early enough that the newscast is still on, and right now, on the screen, the same video Jae had been forced to watch this morning is being displayed. The middle-aged woman, going from calm to crazy, killing and eating a person’s brain then being shot down.

From the corner of his eyes Jae notices a family, sat by the table next to theirs. As the video progresses, Jae watches in half terror as the mother covers her child’s eyes whispering a “don’t look”.

That simple gesture makes Jae want to puke, and he’s not sure why, but suddenly he’s very, very terrified.

He focuses back on the TV, and now a different video, or rather, a compilation of different videos is playing, showing the same thing that had happened to that woman happening to many other people, in various places of the world - there’s even a couple of them from South Korea.

Brian clears his throat loudly, something he always does when he wants someone to pay attention to him. Jae looks away from the TV in order to face him, and once he does, he realizes just how scared he must be, for Brian to be giving him _that_ look.

“Jae,” No ‘hyung’. Brian never uses honorifics when he wants to get serious. Jae also notices the change in his voice, a telltale of— “calm down.” He finishes, in English.

His mother language always works to help calm Jae down. Brian knows this too - of course he does, after almost eight years of friendship, it comes as no surprise.

Jae nods, takes in a deep breath, and calms himself. “Sorry.” He breathes out, watching as Brian shakes his head.

“It’s alright, don’t apologize.” Brian says, back to Korean. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

Jae nods.

“Yeah.”

Jae let’s Brian drive his car back to Jae’s house, something that definitely never happens - Brian is coming out to be very lucky with this deal. By the time they make their way into the house, Jae’s already back to usual cool self, scolding Brian for not taking his shoes off after walking in.

“I can’t stay for long.” Brian points out.

“I’m calling my parents. They’ll want to speak to you.” Jae counters, and it’s enough - Brian is Jae’s parents’ favorite son after all.

Once Brian is securely sat on Jae’s big comfy couch, Jae let’s himself relax a bit, picking up the landline phone and dialing his mom’s number. It’s a bit past 9 in the morning over in DC, and Jae hopes she’s awake already.

The phone rings a few times, and by the fourth time, she picks up.

_“Jaehyung.”_

Jae smiles at absolutely nothing when he hears her voice.

“Hey, mom.” He greets, in English. “How are you?”

_“I’m good, work’s been going well lately. Your father and sister are doing good too.”_ Jae nods absentmindedly. _“And how are you doing, son? Too much work?”_ She guesses playfully. Jae fakes a cry.

“Way too much. Mama, come save me.” He jokes, smiling hard when it makes her chuckle. God, he misses her. “I miss you.”

_“I miss you too, my littlest baby.”_ She replies, the hint of sadness in her words not going unnoticed by Jae. _“But you’re over there chasing your dream and we’re over here where we’ve settled down.”_ She reasons, and again, Jae finds himself nodding. _“You’re still coming home for Christmas, right?”_

“Of course I am.” He answers immediately. His mom chuckles.

_“That’s great, honey. I’ll make your favorite turkey.”_ Jae feels water pooling in his mouth at that, even with his stomach already full – his mom makes a mean turkey. _“Can Brian make it too?”_ She asks, sounding rather much too hopeful. Jae snorts at the question.

Brian’s been going to Jae’s for Christmas ever since they first met and became friends, after he'd come out to Jae as gay and told him about his not-so-close relationship with his own parents. Jae couldn’t let that be and had made it his job to make sure the younger would spend his holidays surrounded by open minded people, so he’d gone and taken him to his house in America (quite literally shoving him into a plane). To no one but Brian’s surprise, Jae’s parents immediately fell in love with him, and to this day, Jae’s sister still nags Brian like he’s her little brother too. Jae’s glad for his family, and he’s glad Brian gets to have one again as well.

He looks over at the younger, who’s not so subtly sitting up on the couch and trying to listen in on his conversation, and rolls his eyes at him, in a silent message Brian understands as “She’s just mentioned you”.

“Of course he is.” Jae answers at last, getting a hum of appreciation from his mom. “Speaking of whom, I have him right here next to me, wanna talk to him too?” He asks, though he knows exactly what she’ll say. He gestures for Brian to come and take the phone.

_“Oh please. Let me say hi to him as well.”_

Jae snorts, but is quick to pass the phone to Brian, who takes it from him with a smug smile – if only his mother could see him now.

“Mrs. P!” Brian greets, making his best angelic voice. Jae’s mom always falls for it. “How are you?”

Jae plops down on the couch, allowing himself to sigh tiredly as Brian’s voice fills the room. He talks for quite a while – he’s always been good at it, like it’s so easy for him to just say what’s on his mind at any time. Jae finds himself smiling here and then, as Brian tells a particular story Jae’d witnessed live.

Jae focuses back his attention a few minutes later, when Brian says his goodbyes and looks over at Jae, pointing at the phone and quietly asking him whether he still wants to speak with her again. Jae only shakes his head – he’s feeling his eyes getting droopy already, and it’s barely even eleven.

“I should get going.” Brian speaks up after he hangs up the call. Jae opens one eye to glare at him. “It’s getting late and you’re clearly tired.” The younger reasons, picking up his shoes from where he’d left them, by the coffee table.

“So, stay.” Jae utters out, shivering as he moves to grab Brian’s wrist and his butt touches a cold part of the couch. Brian smiles, all soft and yet still teasing.

“I don’t think you’d make it through a single episode of Doctor Who in your state.” He jokes, because of course he does, it wouldn’t be Brian if he didn’t turn everything into a joke.

Jae sighs, letting his eyes fall closed, before taking in a deep breath and finding Brian’s gaze again.

“No, I mean. Spend the night.” He clarifies. Brian’s hold on his shoes loosens a bit, and he almost drops them, which makes Jae huff. “See? I can’t let you leave here alone at this hour. You will definitely fall asleep and be kidnaped by the uber driver.”

Brian’s eye roll doesn’t hold nearly as much power nor confidence as it had this morning, and Jae knows he’s won him over.

Brian wakes up to sound of Jae’s phone going off by the night stand. He groans in displeasure at the rude awakening, and waits for Jae to wake up and answer it. When he doesn’t, Brian squints open an eye, and finds him completely passed out next to him. Brian has no idea what kind of ringtone Jae’s set for his alarm clock, but it must be on max volume, because if this awful Nokia ringtone (Jae’s convinced himself he’s too clumsy to have any other brand of cellphone) doesn’t wake him, Brian seriously doesn’t know what will.

The phone finally quiets down, and Brian sighs in relief, going back to sleep. Or at least, trying to. He’s about to shut his eyes when he notices the time on the clock Jae keeps on his night stand – who the hell is calling him at 4:07?

Brian sucks in a ragged breath, an awful thought crossing his mind for a second as he recalls talking to Jae’s mom just a few hours prior. No, he tells himself, she’s okay, they’re all okay.

And yet, much as he tries, Brian can’t go back to sleep. His mind keeps bringing up different scenarios, and he needs to have some clarity or he won’t be able to sleep.

Jae’s cellphone rings again at 4:28, and this time, Brian flinches as it starts ringing. He quietly apologizes before he shakes Jae’s shoulder to wake him up.

“Your phone.” He whispers, trying not to sound too desperate. “Pick it up.”

Jae sighs, frowning as he finally wakes up.

“What?” He asks, probably still only half awake. Brian shakes his shoulder again so he doesn’t fall back to sleep.

“Please pick up your phone, hyung. At least see who’s calling at this hour.” Brian’s voice comes out more frightened than he’d intended it to, but it seems to work, as Jae opens his eyes.

“What?” He repeats, louder this time, more aware. “Who is…” He turns over to pick his phone up. “Alex?” He furrows his eyebrows at the name displayed on the screen, and when he looks at Brian, he simply shrugs.

“Well, pick up. It might be important.” Brian urges, a bit more relaxed it’s just her. Jae glares at his phone.

“I swear, if this is all because of some weird trivia she always seems to find at these ungodly hours, I’m firing her.” He threatens before picking up. Brian chuckles quietly, knowing it’s an empty threat. “Alex, why are you—wow wow, slow _down_. I didn’t get anything of what you just said.” Jae sits up, covering one of his ears to listen to her better – a habit he picked up at the hospital, most likely.

Brian too, sits up, his concern coming back as he watches Jae’s face grow paler and paler. Oh God, he thinks, what’s going on?

On the other side of the line, Alex is screaming, “You need to run and you need to do it now, Jae! Are you listening?! Turn on the news right now! You need to get yourself to an emergency bunker, do you hear me!? Jae!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Run, Jae, run~
> 
> Whenever there's stuff in bold, I'll explain their meaning here.  
> Hematopathology - Researchers of hematopathology study diseases of hematopoietic cells which originate from the bone marrow and contribute to the cellular components of blood. These components include red blood cells, white blood cells, and platelets. Researchers also investigate the nature of disease of the hematopoietic system and related organs, including the bone marrow, spleen, thymus, lymph node and vasculature. As such, diseases of this system are myriad and include hereditary and congenital disorders, as well as acquired disorders.  
> http://www.lmp.utoronto.ca/research/research-areas/hematopathology
> 
> Immunopathology - From uncovering the molecular mechanisms of bacterial antibiotic resistance, malarial infection, effects of toxins on cellular function, viral entry and replication, to the immune restriction of microbial pathogens, researchers in this area bring a diverse breadth of focus that is key to the development of new countermeasures, such as vaccines, antibodies, therapeutics, and diagnostics.  
> http://www.lmp.utoronto.ca/research/research-areas/infectious-diseases-immunopathology
> 
> Hope you liked it (it was maybe not at all what you expected, but I really felt like writing a starting chapter with everything they'll never have again~)  
> Go ahead and leave a comment if you'd like~  
> See ya <3


	2. Fate Looks Sharp, Severs All My Ties And Breaks Whatever Doesn't Bend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a week now – seven days since life as people knew it completely changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back~  
> Today's chapter title is from Owl City's "Tidal Wave" - thank you so much to @ dingdday (on Twitter) for recommending this song to me, it’s truly amazing <3
> 
> Enjoy~ ^^

Jae doesn’t remember the last time he’d ran that fast – or rather, he does, it’d been just the day before, running towards the elevator like there was no tomorrow. But in that moment, as he held onto Brian’s hand like their lives depended on it, it all seemed like it’d happened so long ago.

It’s been a week now – seven days since life as people knew it completely changed.

It’s been seven days since he last slept in a comfortable bed, seven days since he ate a proper meal, seven long days since he talked to his family. Every time he wonders if they’re still alive, he finds himself running out of breath. Even if they are, what’ve their lives become? In only seven days, who knows what’s still left of the outside world?

“Mr. Park?” Jae looks up from the desk he’d been fixing with an empty stare for the past twenty minutes. His eyes find the source of the voice calling his name – a young woman, who’s been assigned to work under him. Jae feels bad he hasn’t memorized her name yet. It’s been a week already, after all.

“Yes.” He replies, voice hoarse from not having spoken for a few hours now.

She chances a sympathetic smile at him – she’s kind and yet he doesn’t even remember her name.

“I have the results from the exams you ran yesterday.” She informs, holding up a tablet. Jae hadn’t noticed it yet.

He takes in a deep breath, trying to pull himself together.

“Yes, of course. Thank you, please show them to me.” He requests, gesturing for her come in.

Jae refuses to call the current room he’s in a laboratory. Sure, it’s got a couple of devices he’s used to work with at his lab, and sure, it’s even got a few desks-for-counters placed around to make it look like one, there’re even a couple of microscopes and a few other machines he recognizes, perhaps to give the impression that this is indeed a lab, but Jae knows better. This isn’t a lab – it’s a desperate attempt at giving him and his team means they don’t have, to find a cure for a virus they know nothing about.

The young lady – Jae should probably ask her for her name, again – places the tablet down on the desk, being as careful as to turn it towards him.

“Thank you… ?” He hopes his face sends the message across. The young woman chuckles, taking the back of her hand to cover her smile. Jae doesn’t know why she does that – she’s very pretty, what with her short dark hair and cat-like eyes.

“Lee Seoyeon.” She completes, and Jae shakes his head, disappointed in himself – Seoyeon! He knew it, why couldn’t he remember? “I should probably start using a name tag.” Seoyeon comments, smiling even though Jae feels like an asshole.

“I’m so sorry, Seoyeon. I’ll try to remember this time. I just—” Seoyeon holds a hand up, cutting him off.

“It’s alright, Mr. Park. I know you have a lot of work right now, and everyone is aware of the pressure you’re being faced with…” She trails off, glancing sideways at the armed military man standing by the door of the room. Jae forces out a half-smile, dismissing her afterwards. He picks up the tablet holding the test results she’s brought him, and tries to make sense of what he reads.

The first list of test results has come out pretty regular, the amounts of blood cells looking pretty average to him, nothing out of the norm. Jae moves on to the second page, where he’s met with the results for the **CMP** test. He frowns as soon as he lays eyes on it – the levels of some proteins are absurdly high, such as the Chloride, Creatine, and Sodium test results show. Jae wonders how these people are even alive. He puts the tablet down for a second, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tries to make something out of these results.

These high levels could be indicators of dehydration, and possible kidney failure, which could make sense, thinking back to all the images he’s been forced into watching, of people running after people without a break, and fighting and crawling and jumping without rest. They _must_ be dehydrated. However, the levels of Sodium can also be pointing to an excessive amount of **Cortisol** , which is also very likely to be happening here – at least for himself, Jae practically feels his Cortisol levels on a constant high ever since he’s had to flee from the surface, pulling Brian along with him and yelling at him to just keep running.

He slumps back down on his chair – the only addition he’s glad for in this pretend lab - and thinks about how much he misses his real lab, and how mundane and boring his life used to be. Now it’s just so… much.

Jae looks up again, when he begins hearing a few hushed comments, which quickly turn into progressively louder questions of “What are they saying?” and “Does anyone speak English here?!”. He sighs, pulling his chair back and getting up. He glances at the small excuse of a clock by his desk, confirming his thoughts. It’s time for the newscast again.

“Mr. Park!” An old man calls. Jae does his best not scowl at him – it’s not his fault, Jae, he’s just worried, as you are too. “Can you translate the news for us again, please?” He practically begs. Jae grimaces, but concedes, after looking past the old man at the numerous pairs of equally frightened eyes. He goes to stand next to the TV. It’s not nearly as big as the one in the communal area of the bunker, that one resembles a cinema screen. This one is about the size of regular TV, placed high in the wall of the hospital hall, where people in need of medical or psychological care can gather to watch new information and updates of the current situation. There aren’t many people here at this hour, since most are either in the middle of a medical appointment, preparing food in the kitchens, cleaning the communal hygiene spaces, entertaining the children by the school and playground areas, or working the artificial lands by the green house (kept alive by UV lights, which make a poor but still functional job of replacing the sun).

“I need you to quiet down a bit, or I can’t listen to what they’re saying.” He asks, and everyone is quick to shut up. Jae feels dizzy just from it, witnessing this amount of panic. He focuses on the newscast instead, doing his best to translate into Korean what the American journalist is saying:

_“In the last week, there’s been an outbreak of catastrophic proportions throughout the entire world. The still unnamed virus, which turns people rabid, has spread out throughout all continents, leaving behind a trail of death and more infected people. We have reporters in both Europe and Asia, and the situation isn’t looking much better in any of those. After last Thursday’s massive shoot down occurred in the capitals and bigger cities of China, North and South Korea and Japan, the UN has officially publicly ruled these countries as ruthless, especially in our current circumstances. As we’re faced with this mass extinction threat, the organization calls these countries out for their cold blood. “It may have been effective in eliminating a part of the threat, but at what costs?” asks Mitch Baylor, one of the English representatives of the UN._

_“Meanwhile, Europe has begun discussing on how to fight against this threat, but it’s still not clear what they’re actually attempting to do. Yesterday, our president has spoken on national television from the White House, asking European leaders what their plans are._

_“Furthermore, the measures discussed yesterday at the US parliament have been approved during last evening’s debate, meaning as of today, all citizens are allowed and advised to buy and carry a loaded weapon, since, as of now, it is the most effective way to fight and stop what many people are already calling of zombies.”_

Jae frowns as he translates what the journalist says, taking note of the reactions he gets once everyone understands what’s going on in other parts of the world.

“Mr. Park, have you discovered anything so far?” The old man from before asks. Oh no, Jae thinks, it’s starting.

“Yes, Mr. Park, please tell us whenever you find out more about these things!” Another voice joins in, and soon enough, Jae finds himself in the middle of a terrified crowd, asking him many questions to which he has no answers for.

He pulls his arm away as he feels someone grab his sleeve, but once he looks over, he finds Brian had been the one to do it, and he regrets not holding his hand instead. The younger doesn’t look hurt by it in the slightest – he simply wiggles his eyebrows at Jae and nods towards the other end of the hall. Jae’s eyes probably show his despair.

“Everyone, please calm down.” Brian speaks up. “We’re all doing our best to deal with this quickly and efficiently. We only ask for your patience and consideration. Please try to keep calm. We assure you we will figure this out.” Jae wants to believe it too. He really does, but he’s right in the middle of this, and he doesn’t see a way out. Brian holds Jae’s sleeve again, and this time Jae doesn’t flinch. “Come on.”

Jae lets himself be pulled along, and the two of them scurrying away from the commotion into the neurologist’s own put-up office. There’s only a free table in this room, packed with different papers Jae is sure Brian – and only Brian – would say are methodically organized.

The other similar surface is actually a stretcher, coming straight from the Morgue, and it’s currently being occupied by a very much dead person – the very first infected patient they’d been able to catch.

At least Brian’s covered the body with a sheet, but even though it’s not visible, they can both still smell it.

“Are you okay?” Brian asks once the door is closed, and immediately sighs. “No, I know. I mean, after that back there?” He clarifies, pointing behind himself with his thumb. Jae shrugs, distracting himself by looking over at the younger’s notes.

“It’s alright. They’re just scared.” He says, knowing the feeling all too well himself.

“So are we, but I know what you mean.” Brian nods, leaning his body against the table and crossing his arms over his chest. “Have you eaten?” He questions, and Jae can tell he’s frowning before he even looks up.

“I will.” Jae dismisses, pretending the other’s scribbles are suddenly very interesting.

“Jae, come on… We’ve talked about this, you need to eat. If you don’t, you’ll—what is it?” Brian cuts himself off as he notices Jae’s furrowed eyebrows.

While pretending to pay close attention to the notes, Jae’d actually found something that’d caught his eye.

“What’s with that look?” Brian repeats when he doesn’t get an answer. Jae touches the sheet he’d been looking at. “Go ahead.” He allows, and Jae takes the sheet from where it’d been “strategically placed” to read it over, before his eyes shoot up at Brian.

“Is this for real?” He questions, handing the younger the sheet so he knows what Jae’s talking about. Brian looks at the paper quickly.

“Yes,” He nods while reading through it “I was confused too. I’ve never seen anything like this before.” He admits.

“I think...” Jae trails off. He doesn’t want to sound too hopeful. Brian tilts his head sideways, the puppy thing he does whenever he’s confused.

“You think... what?”

Jae takes a deep breath before continuing.

“I think I know what makes them so fast and strong.”

Brian holds down the sheet to look back up at Jae, his eyes opened wide.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Tell me.” He encourages, probably noticing the much too obvious doubt in Jae’s voice.

“I...” Jae starts, then stops as he glances back the covered body on the other end of the room “Is that the body we’ve been using for these tests?” He questions, to which the other nods. “Okay.” Jae nods along. “Can I have that?” He points at the paper Brian is still holding.

“Here.” Brian hands it to him without a second’s delay.

Jae takes the paper and walks towards the body, uncovering only the head – which makes both him and the younger wince for a second, as the stench hits them harder. Okay, Jae tells himself, let me think.

“I was handed back a few results on his blood and protein levels’ tests today.” Jae states. “The blood cells were fine, but there were some absurd levels of proteins and hormones. Two of which are indirectly related to **Epinephrine**.” Brian doesn’t interrupt him, he looks like he’s not even breathing, as if making a single sound could cut off Jae’s trail of thought. Jae is honestly thankful for that. “In here, you’ve written he died of a heart attack, but this person clearly used to be healthy. It’s a weird cause of death. Though, given the circumstances, everything seems to be.” He adds. Jae looks between the body and Brian’s notes. “When we collected his blood, it looked more orange than red, and we initially dismissed it as a side effect caused by the virus, but what if—” Jae doesn’t even really know how to say this. It makes sense, given all the evidence they’ve been collecting, and at the same time, it’s almost like this virus as a life and brain of its own. “What if the virus is causing an overproduction of Epinephrine? It could explain most of the way they act – the higher speed and strength, the quick dehydration which turns their skin all wrinkled and raises the Sodium levels, and it also explains the heart attack. He could have died from heart failure, since the Epinephrine could be damaging the organ, especially if I’m right, and it is actually being constantly segregated into their bloodstream.”

Brian’s speechless by the time Jae finishes his explanation.

“Jae.”

“What?” He frowns, the look on the younger’s face one he can’t decipher.

“You’re a genius.” Is all Brian says, and Jae sighs in relief.

“Yeah, _if_ I’m right.” He corrects, covering the dead man’s head again. “But we still don’t even know how the virus behaves, or where the fuck it came from. Clearly, it’s been quietly spreading out, since it all began at the same time. There wasn’t even a contamination period, people just became infected seemingly out of nowhere.”

“I was thinking about it yesterday.” Brian speaks up, and Jae urges him to go on. “What if the virus had already been in these people before?” He ponders. “We don’t know about a way of transmitting it that isn’t an infected person making direct contact with a healthy person’s bloodstream, either by scratching or biting, so it kinda rules out a lot of possibilities.”

“Wouldn’t that mean we too, could be infected, and not know it?” Jae argues, and Brian holds up a finger.

“Exactly! But no one’s been transforming in here, and since there isn’t a way to test it, not yet at least, we can’t know for sure. What I’m saying is the virus might need a period of incubation before becoming active.” Brian explains. It does make sense, and still. “So, what if it’s connected to some other virus? It could be a mutation originated from a pre-existing virus.” He suggests.

“If what you’re saying turns out to be true, then we need to find and test the virus for resemblances to other ones as soon as possible. An incubation period where it doesn’t manifest isn’t all that crazy, since most viruses have them, though they’re usually relatively short.” Jae nods, opening his mouth again to keep speaking, but quickly shut it again as someone knocks on the door.

“Yes?” Brian asks loudly, putting on his best professional voice.

Alex opens the door without further notice.

“Hey, have you seen—oh, there you are.” She stops midsentence as she notices Jae, who purses his lips to avoid sighing. If Alex had been looking for him, then it can only mean one thing. “It’s time for the daily report.” She says what Jae had already guessed was coming.

He offers Brian one last look, mentally sending him a “we’ll continue this later” before following Alex out of the room.

“How long have they been there for?” Jae asks, straightening his lab coat as the two of them walk through the corridors of the hospital area – it’s chaotic, loud and always full of people.

“Not long, five minutes tops.” Alex answers him, her voice serious, as if even her can’t keep her good humor when it comes to this part of the day. “Are you okay?”

Jae raises an eyebrow, giving her a smug smile.

“It’s weird when you ask.” He replies, avoiding actually answering the question. Alex goes along with it, hopefully not noticing it.

“What was that back at Brian’s?” She questions, hopping a bit faster to keep up with Jae’s long legs. Jae side-eyes her.

“You’re too curious.” He accuses, keeping their conversation to himself. Alex pouts.

“Come on! I wanna know… Or were you not talking work?” She points a finger right in between Jae’s eyes. “Were you two just flirting? Oh my God, what did I actually walk into, were you—”

Jae covers her mouth with his hand, grimacing at how amused she looks. They’ve reached the door to the hospital’s conference room, where every day, Jae must report back what he did to the higher ups. It’s also the time of the day he gets some feedback from the rest of the world, and whether anyone has discovered something new. He hates the pressure of it.

“Shut up. I’ll tell you later.” He concedes, seemingly the only thing that will make her obey his orders. “If I don’t come out of this room in an hour, I’ve probably passed away. You can have the fake lab.” Jae jokes, trying to lighten both their moods.

“You’ll be fine.” Alex assures, then begins pushing him into the room. “Go on then, don’t keep them waiting.”

It’s hard to look for a solution when you still haven’t figured the problem out. Which is why Jae hates doing these reports. He gets that they’re all mostly trying to help each other out, but the pressure being put on them to find a cure when they haven’t figured out the virus yet is driving him crazy.

He ends up not telling the higher ups about his and Brian’s little brainstorm. He merely listens to what news the other scientists have, writing down everything he finds might be helpful – which is almost everything.

There’s an American one that says something about the virus travelling inside the host’s body, instead of choosing one location right away. They end up all agreeing it’s lodged itself in the infected person’s brain, but they still haven’t figured out why or how it got there. A German scientist – with the hardest to understand accent Jae’s ever heard – tells them her theory about the place where a person is scratched or bitten having to do with the time it takes for them to became infected, but since she has nothing to back her theory up (nothing valid, not yet), she’s quickly shut down. Jae still takes a note of what she said, since it makes sense to him as well.

Before he knows it, the hour is over, and he’s walking out of the conference room, folding the fully written paper sheet in half and keeping it in one of his lab coat’s pockets.

It’s when he goes back to his assigned fake lab that the deep frown leaves his expression, only to be replaced with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s going on?” He asks upon entering. Alex, Seoyeon, and Brian turn to face him.

“How’d it go?” The neurologist asks, the slightest grimace on his face giving away his concern. Jae shrugs, shutting the door after walking in.

“Same as yesterday. Nothing new.” He lies. It’s all he’s been doing lately – lying. Everyone keeps telling him to keep all the information he finds confidential, though he’s not sure how that helps in any way. They should be sharing all the information they get, and not keeping it quiet. It’s not like he can just go against his orders, though, not when he’s being monotonized by _armed_ military. “What are you all doing here?” Jae repeats, when the three of them avoid eye contact with him. “Did something happen in the sixty minutes I was gone?”

“Well…” Alex stars, and Jae forces down a wince – when she sounds like that… “We might have found something. But we’re not sure.”

Jae sighs, going to join them around the table where they’d been using the research tablet.

“Tell me what you think you discovered.” Jae requests. “Maybe we can help each other.”

And so, the three of them go off into a much too confusing explanation.

“The body in my office,” Brian begins, “it was sent back to the Morgue, for a proper autopsy. When they opened up his skull, my guesses were confirmed, as they found his brain practically drowning in **CSF** , almost like the person had developed **Hydrocephalus** after being infected. This could also be affecting his behavior and could be why they move so… strangely? This assuming all, or at least some, of them also develop this condition. I don’t know, they move pretty weird when they’re not—you know, chasing prey.” Jae almost snorts at the way the younger puts it into words. “It’s almost like they’re always out of balance, and it could also be influencing their mood, turning them more volatile to anger and violence.” He explains. Jae nods, trying to understand whether this information can fit with his own theory.

“We were also analyzing the blood tests’ results from this morning.” Alex cuts in, making Jae look up at her. “We were trying to connect them with what Brian told us. As you probably noticed, the blood cells all seemed to be pretty average, and it were the protein and hormone levels that were all messed up. We were trying to understand how the two are related, and whether they actually even matter.” She finishes, picking up the tablet and handing it to Jae. “Here.”

“What’s this?” Jae asks, taking the tablet.

“It’s a sum up of what we told you just now, Mr. Park. With a few side notes.” Seoyeon clarifies, to which he nods.

“You did all this? You realize this can be groundbreaking, right?” Jae looks at all three of them, their faces a mix of expectation, hopefulness and fear. Jae closes his eyes for a second, sighing deeply. He puts the tablet down on the table and takes the paper he’d scribbled on during his meeting, placing the two together.

“What’s that?” Brian asks, twisting his head to try and read the paper. Jae smacks him across the head lightly.

“Stop peeking, I’m about to say what it is.” He scolds, repressing a smile when the younger pouts and rubs the sore spot on the back of his head. “Today, one of the American researches came up with a new theory, that the virus might not have gone directly to the person’s brain, but could have kept itself in another part of the body, where it could’ve spent some time incubating. I think we all agreed the virus has been incubating for a while, and is only now showing visible symptoms.” Jae’s eyes trail back to Brian, as he recalls their conversation earlier. “I ended up not saying anything, but if I’m being honest, the most logical place for the virus to have been incubating would be in the lungs – if you think about it it’s ideal, being mild, temperature wise, and both ventilated and moist. The perfect environment for a virus to thrive.” Jae eyes the three of them, noting how they all begin connecting the dots.

“Do you think—” Alex stops herself midsentence, shaking her head. “But that would mean… just how many people are we talking if that’s the case?” She asks, eyes widened, displaying the pure terror of Jae’s implications.

“I know… It sounds awful. But it would make sense.” Jae looks at the tablet and his paper. “If the same people that got infected during the pandemic are getting infected now… then it would mean we never really did find a cure for the virus – it outsmarted us.”

“Or maybe we made things worse.” Brian speaks up, making everyone turn to him. “If you tweak a virus but don’t actually kill it, it tends to worsen. It gets used to fighting the antibodies and medicine you throw at it, and develops new resistance mechanisms. So, what if we’ve actually been helping it get this bad?” He wonders, and their already pained expressions turn even grimmer.

“Should we tell someone about this?” Seoyeon asks. Jae’s eyes shoot up at her.

“No!” He exclaims quickly. “I… You’re not supposed to know what I just told you. It’s better if we keep this quiet until we know whether this is true. I’ll run tests for the infected person’s lungs, try to figure whether they can tell us something we don’t know. Alex, can you help with that?” Before he finishes the question, she’s already nodding.

“Of course. I’ll go ask for permission to run the tests.” She answers, then stops short of the door, turning back to them. “What… what do I tell them?” She questions. Jae thinks about it for a while – she can’t just tell the Morgue about what they’ve been speculating.

“Tell them… Just tell them I requested it, and you don’t exactly know what for. If they insist, say I wanted to check whether he’s ever had respiratory issues.” He hopes that’ll be enough. Alex nods once, and leaves for the Morgue. Jae turns to Seoyeon.

“Mr. Park.” She acknowledges.

“Seoyeon, could you please try to figure out who the man used to be? If we can get a hold of his name, we could probably trace it back to his medical records and find out whether he ever got infected with **ARD-22**.” Jae asks her, to which she nods, lips pressed tightly into a small smile.

“Of course. I’ll get on it right now. Please excuse me.” She bows slightly at him and Brian.

“Thank you.” Jae bows his head back, and then he and Brian are the only ones left in the room.

“What would you have me do, Mr. Park?” Brian questions with a smirk, resting his elbows on the table and leaning forwards. Jae snorts, shaking his head.

“I can’t believe you…” He huffs out. “Just… we need to figure out whether virus might have transformed itself into something new. If it moved from the lungs to the brain, it’s likely it changed its constitution.”

Brian furrows his eyebrows, putting on a serious look again.

“Kind of like… an undetectable **prion**?” He suggests and Jae nods.

“Exactly.” He agrees. “It could also be why it went unnoticed by other examinations. We weren’t looking for it in the right place of the body, and probably not using the correct exams.” Jae continues. “There’s a chance we don’t even have a way to test people for it at all. Even prions can be caught by the right exams.”

“If we’re right… you do know we’ll have to tell them, don’t you?” Brian pins him down with his stare.

“I know. But if we tell them now, without actual evidence other than speculation, they won’t listen. It’s better to give them everything at once.” Jae knows this all too well – he’s been watching theory after theory being spewed out and shut down, simply because there’s no proper evidence, and he does not want to be shut down, especially if they’re right.

Jae makes to stand, but as he does, his sight turns black, and he needs to grab onto the table to steady himself.

“Hey!” He hears Brian call out. “Hyung, are you alright?” The younger asks, as Jae shakes his head to try and get his sight back. He feels Brian’s hands on his shoulders – he must’ve come around the table to help him stand. “Have you eaten anything?”

Jae shuts his eyes tightly, trying to shoo Brian’s hands away, but it seems he can barely hold his own hands up, much less move them around. Brian snickers – he’s probably squinting his eyes at Jae.

“Stupid.” He accuses. “Where’s your bed?”

Jae frowns – why is Brian asking about his bed? His bed is back in the surface, along with his old house, and his old life.

He thinks the younger says something else, but he’s not sure. He barely notices they’re walking until he’s being pushed onto a hard mattress. He plops down with an _oof_ , and finally gathers the strength to open his eyes. Without his glasses – which Brian had done him the favor of removing before tackling him down – everything becomes blurry, and Jae needs to pay two times more attention to actually see where he is. He looks around, and finds himself in the communal sleeping area, an open space divided meticulously by half-walls, each of the semi-cubicles containing a mattress – there must be over 30.000 mattresses total in this bunker, about 10.000 per floor distributed by three areas (A, B, and C). According to the big letter and number painted on the wall, they’re in area B of the second underground floor, which, Jae concludes, isn’t his sleeping area nor floor.

Brian goes back to the first floor after (quite literally) dropping Jae off on his bed, hoping the kitchens will spare him some food. Jae is very stupid, going the whole day without eating. He should know he can’t just get food whenever he’s hungry, like before. Now, there’re schedules, and limited portions of food – if you can call it food; they’re more like army rations.

After a bit of convincing (and some awkward flirting), Brian manages to snag a couple of protein bars and a small bottle of juice, which he very discretely smuggles back to his bed.

He finds Jae sitting down cross legged, feeling around the mattress to try and find his glasses – which are actually by the pillow. He squints at Brian once he’s close enough he can tell his figure apart from the background.

“Where did you go?” The older asks, still squinting. Brian can’t help the chuckle that leaves his lips.

“I went to get you food.” He replies, sitting down in front of Jae and mimicking his pose. “Your glasses are behind you.” He says, pointing towards the pillow. Jae turns around and finally grabs his glasses, being quick to put them on.

He stares at Brian’s hands, which hold the protein bars and the juice bottle.

“I’m not—”

“Shut up. Just eat.” Brian orders, shoving the food against Jae’s chest. The older frowns, but finally takes it.

“So what, are you just gonna sit there and watch me eat?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. Brian knows this defensive side of Jae all too well, so he simply stares harder.

“Yes.”

Jae snorts, but there’s something soft in it too.

“Creep.” He calls him, but Brian just rolls his eyes.

“It’s the only way I know you’ll eat.” He throws back.

“You sound like my mom.” Jae jokes, but as the words leave his mouth, he visibly slumps in on himself. Brian looks down at the space between them on the mattress. They haven’t been able to contact Jae’s family at all, and Brian knows how much that’s affecting Jae. It’s been affecting him too – Jae’s family is closer to him than his blood one.

“I…” Brian has no idea what to say to him. He doesn’t have any way of contacting them, or of knowing they’re alright. “We’ll try to call them again tomorrow.” He ends up saying, since it’s the only thing they can actually do. Jae manages a small smile.

“Yeah…” He answers, looking down at his hands. “Thanks for the food.”

Brian too, smiles shortly.

“You’re welcome.”

Of course, Jae is a big baby and refuses to get back up after he finishes eating.

“Go sleep in your own bed.” Brian demands, elbowing him on the side. They’d ended up lying side by side on their stomachs, elbows resting on the mattress to keep them up. Jae winces when Brian tackles him.

“It’s not an actual bed, just a mattress on the floor.” Jae corrects, trying to change the topic.

“Whatever, you have your own mattress.” Brian counters, but Jae simply buries his face on the younger’s pillow.

“I’m not leaving.” He states, though it comes out all muffled. Brian huffs.

“Well, _I’m_ definitely not leaving. This is my bed.” He points, poking Jae’s arm so he looks back up. Jae sighs into the pillow, and holds up his head to look at Brian, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose.

“Then don’t.”

_“Jae, what is it?” He asks, gripping his arm, so the older will snap out of whatever trance he’d gotten into. He can sort of listen to Alex still yelling on the other side of the line, but he can’t make out what she’s saying._

_“I... We need to go.” Jae breathes, in a barely audible voice. Brian frowns in confusion._

_“What? What are you—” He’s cut off by the sound of the TV, which Jae had just turned on._

_He looks over at the screen in front of Jae’s bed, and his eyes widen as he sees the images being shown there. People running after people. Chasing, harming, killing,_ turning _. Brian’s eyes grow impossibly wide as he watches with pure horror everything that’s going on. He catches something in the background that makes him recognize the place. “Is that… here?” He asks, voice shakier than he would’ve liked. Jae’s eyes are still trained on the TV when he reaches for Brian’s hand._

_“Let’s run, Bri.”_

_And so, they do._

_The government had sent out an order for everyone who’s not infected to evacuate into one of the many emergency bunkers which had been built previously, when the tension between the USA and China used to be so high everyone had been fearing a third War. However, these bunkers were just that – mostly empty underground facilities, capable of holding a maximum of 40.000 thousand people each. There were about 1.000 of them spread around the whole country, and Brian had never thought he’d need to take refuge in one – much less in this kind of situation._

_Jae grips Brian’s hand hard as they run – they’d ditched his car after taking a look at the traffic. Jae keeps screaming at him, urging him to go faster, to stop slowing down every time he sees someone getting killed right next to them._

_It’s 2 more miles until the closest bunker. Just 2. They run past the Hospital where they work, and it’s like they both feel it at the same time – a need to stop and stare. It’s Brian who breaks out of it first, gripping Jae’s hand tighter so he snaps out of it as well. “We need to go.” He tells Jae, who nods but stays still._

_Brian wants to stay too. Wants to go back to the way their lives used to be, wants to take coffee breaks that last longer than they should, and to go back to Jae’s after a tiring day and snuggle up with him on the couch even though it’s big enough for five people, and watch Doctor Who until they both pass out, and he wants to spend Christmas with Jae’s family and eat Mrs. Park amazing turkey, and he wants, wants,_ wants.

_He’s jolted from his thoughts when an infected person about to attack them is shot down, less than two feet to his left. His eyes go wide as he looks around and sees not a single person holding a gun. He looks up, and finds their saviors – three military helicopters._

_“Jae…” Brian calls, suddenly remembering the header of the newscast. “We’re running out of time.”_

_If we don’t get to the bunker before the sun is up, we’ll all die. They’ll shoot everyone._

_Brian doesn’t wait for Jae to answer, he just pulls him along, holding his hand in an iron grip._

_He can see the bunker from here, its big opened doors standing up in the air. ‘SL-3’ is written on the outside of one of the doors. Seoul, bunker number 3, Brian thinks._

_They’re almost there, so close it’s almost painful to keep running. Jae has finally woken up and is keeping up with him, gripping his hand back._

_Brian would be lying if he says he didn’t see them coming. He did, but he thought they could make it to the bunker first. From the corner of his eye, he sees the infected person making a run for them – they will get to Jae before getting to him. Panicking, Brian stops abruptly and pushes Jae forwards, screaming “Keep running!”_

_He’s tackled down the next second, hitting the concrete floor with his back. He can only hold the person – he can’t even tell their gender apart anymore – back by trying to choke them, which works for only a second. They make to attack him, holding up an arm Brian knows they’ll use to hit him. The arm comes down at the same time there’s a gunshot sound, and Brian flinches. A second goes by where he can only register his own breathing. He’s alive._

_He opens his eyes, looking down to find his shirt and himself covered in blood – bright red, almost orange, blood. The person on top of him is dead, their head split open after being shot down. Disturbed and feeling like he might puke at any second, he tosses the corpse away from himself, trying to stand up and almost falling back down again._

_“Brian!” He hears Jae call him. Where, Brian wants to scream, where are you? He finds Jae, being held down by two military men so he can’t run back. “Run!”_

Brian jolts awake, breath irregular and every inch of his body covered in a thin layer of sweat. He looks down at his own chest, but finds it clean – no trace of blood anywhere, not anymore.

He takes a minute to calm down, focusing solely on breathing. His nights have been spent like this – waking up to the same nightmare, to the same memory, to the same expression of fear on Jae’s face. Brian closes his eyes and tries to erase it from his mind, but no matter how much he wants to, he can’t.

There’s a warm presence next to him, and Brian remembers Jae not wanting to go back to his bed. He allows a smile to make its way onto his lips – what a child. He looks over, suddenly curious to see Jae’s expression when he sleeps, but as he does so, what he finds is not what he’s used to. Jae is frowning in his sleep, his jaw is clenched and his fists are closed, as if he’s in pain even now. Brian wonders if Jae’s nights have been similar to his own. He wants to soothe him, but he doesn’t know how. So, he does what he knows, what they always have done, what he’s missed for so long.

When Brian’s arm wraps around his waist, he feels Jae’s sharp intake, before he breaths out and the muscles on his chest and abdomen seem to relax. Brian snuggles closer to him, sinking down on the mattress a bit so his head is leveled with Jae’s chest. He leans into his warmth, and rests his head over Jae’s ribcage, where he can listen to his heartbeat and feel his breathing.

_Alive_ , he thinks – repeats that word over and over again so he doesn’t forget.

He’s lulled back to sleep by the sound of life, and this time, he doesn’t see death in his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scientific definitions time~
> 
> CMP (Comprehensive Metabolic Panel) - A group of 14 tests that measures several different substances in your blood. It is one of the most commonly ordered lab tests. It gives your healthcare practitioner important information about the current status of your body's metabolism (hence the name metabolic panel). The CMP provides information on your blood sugar (glucose) levels, the balance of electrolytes and fluid as well as the health of your kidneys and liver. Abnormal results, and especially combinations of abnormal results, can indicate a problem that needs to be addressed and may require additional testing.  
> https://labtestsonline.org/tests/comprehensive-metabolic-panel-cmp
> 
> Hydrocephalus and CSF- Hydrocephalus, also called water in the brain, is a condition where there is an abnormal build up of CSF (cerebrospinal fluid) in the cavities (ventricles) of the brain. The build-up is often caused by an obstruction that prevents proper fluid drainage.  
> https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/181727
> 
> ARD-22 - this one is made up, supposed to be the name of the pandemic, meaning Acute Respiratory Disease - 2022 (ARD-22 for short), yes we're a few years ahead bc I like to think we're gonna survive the current pandemic and I wanna finish this fic before there's an actual zombie apocalypse~ :)
> 
> Prion - Prions are misfolded proteins with the ability to transmit their misfolded shape onto normal variants of the same protein. They characterize several fatal and transmissible neurodegenerative diseases in humans and many other animals. It is not known what causes the normal protein to misfold, but the abnormal three-dimensional structure is suspected of conferring infectious properties, collapsing nearby protein molecules into the same shape.  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prion
> 
> Cortisol is an hormone related to stress; if you're feeling stressed, it's likely that your Cortisol levels are high. Epinephrine is another name for Adrenaline, also an hormone, responsible for triggering the fight-or-flight responses during stressful or dangerous situations. An excessive amount of Adrenaline can cause heart damage, insomnia, nervousness, etc.
> 
> Hope that cleared out any doubts~ if you still have questions (or if you actually know your shit and read any kind of mistakes) please let me know~ <3  
> Anyway, hope you liked the chapter~ As always, if you wanna, leave a comment and let me know your thoughts <3  
> May we meet again~


	3. When I Watch The World Burn All I Think About Is You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By night, once the silence surrounds him and all he hears are Brian’s little snores against his chest, Jae thinks maybe doing this is enough – maybe taking care of his own little world is enough.  
> And yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again~  
> Today's chapter title is taken from the song "Doom Days" by Bastille. I'd like to thank @ GUMIthiwf (Twitter) for introducing me to this amazing song. <3
> 
> Enjoy~

Jae wakes up with Brian in his arms, head resting on top of his chest as if he’s listening to the older’s heartbeat. He smiles at the sight - endearing, is the word he’s looking for. Jae notices, then, that he’s waking up peacefully, and not with a sharp intake of breath like he had been this past week. His smile turns fond as Brian snuggles closer, reminding him of a kitten.

Carefully, as not to wake the younger up, Jae pets his hair, paying close attention to his reaction. Brian frowns in the slightest, then goes back to his pouty sleeping expression.

This, Jae thinks, is all he has left. All he can still come back to and call home. He realizes that it’s other way around too. Brian’s family, his biological one, is missing. The two of them know what’s most likely to have happened, especially since he knows Brian’s father had caught ARD-22 the year before. Brian doesn’t talk about it, doesn’t even mention them, and yet Jae worries. He thinks he worries even more because Brian doesn’t talk about it.

And if their theory is right… Jae frowns, he doesn’t want to think about it right now. Not when he’s holding Brian close, not when these little moments have become non-existent since the virus had broken out.

Brian stirs awake a couple of minutes later, probably because Jae kept petting his hair. He squints his eyes open, looking around without moving his head before his eyes find Jae’s.

“Morning.” Jae smiles down at the way the younger shuts his eyes tightly and opens then again.

“Hello.” Brian’s morning voice resonates through Jae’s chest, the deeper than usual timbre similar to one of a bass. He clears his throat and when he speaks again, his voice sounds a bit lighter. “Did you sleep?” He asks, not even bothering to question whether he’d slept well. Jae thinks the other must be underestimating the feeling of calm he gets whenever Brian’s close.

“I slept.” Jae nods instead, keeping to himself how it’s the best sleep he’s had all week (maybe even all month; he’d been having a shit ton of work even before everything went down). “Did you?”

“Eventually.” Brian replies honestly. “You make for a good pillow.” He jokes, patting Jae’s chest. The older snorts at him, bringing a hand up to mess the dark locks which he’d been carefully combing through just a minute ago.

“Glad to be of use.” Jae goes along with the joke, allowing himself to admire the laugh the younger emits from both his answer and the way his fingers are playing with his hair.

Brian eventually rolls off of Jae’s chest, but neither of them get up. Maybe because they know what the day holds for the two of them. Maybe because they miss each other.

It’s the younger who breaks their comfortable silence, groaning as he rubs his face with both hands.

“We need to get to work.” He says, though he looks like he’d rather stay in bed all day.

“Yeah.” Jae agrees, not making a single move to get up either. “We do.”

By 9am, Jae is properly showered, dressed and with a full stomach, all thanks to Brian (the food part, that is, not the other two), and is now making his way inside his pretend lab, where he finds Seoyeon with her eyes trained on the research tablet.

As soon as he walks in, she looks up and sends him a polite smile.

“Good morning, Mr. Park.” She greets, and Jae grimaces slightly.

“Good morning.” He greets back. “You know, you can call me Jae. Every other person in our little team does too.” He allows. Seoyeon smiles, but it’s not a very comfortable smile.

“Thank you, Mr. Park, but I’d rather if we kept things professional.” She denies respectfully, to which Jae attempts (and probably fails) not to frown in confusion. Seoyeon laughs quietly (and covers her mouth with the back of her hand as usual). “That was probably not the right way to express myself. I meant, it’s better to keep calling you Mr. Park, otherwise people might suspect we became close. They might want to look into it, and find out what we’re doing.” She explains, making sure to accentuate the word “people”, which Jae hears as “military”.

“Ah, right right.” Jae nods, still slightly confused, but deciding to go along with it. “Alright then, have you had any luck with what I asked you yesterday?”

Seoyeon shakes her head.

“Not yet, the program is still running, trying to find a match for his identity. I guess it’s harder now, since his face is all…” She trails off, but her expression speaks for itself – since the man’s face now looks disgustingly wrinkled and aged, not to mention, quickly decomposing.

Jae nods understandingly.

“Yeah, that’s okay.” He speaks while putting on his lab coat and then, noticing the dejected look on his assistant’s face, adds “I ended up not doing anything yesterday, either.”

“Oh?” Seoyeon tilts her sideways, in a manner that Jae is starting to associate with his best friend.

He rubs the back of his head, suddenly embarrassed.

“Yeah, I wanted to, but Brian didn’t let me; he said I looked like I was about to pass out.” Jae confesses. When Seoyeon chuckles, he glares at her.

“Well, I mean, you kind of did.” She admits, and Jae gasps.

“I thought we were being professional.” He accuses, but there’s no bite to it. He’s actually glad they’re getting used to each other nicely – it’d be a pain not to get along with the people you have to work with, after all.

Alex shows up a few minutes later. By that time, Jae’s already running a new test on the infected patient’s blood, so he barely looks up when she walks into the room.

“I got it!” She cheers. Jae raises an eyebrow at her.

“Your period?” He teases, just to make her frown.

Alex is close enough now that she can hit him with the papers she’d been holding.

“Stop being an ass. I got your permission to run tests on the dude’s lungs. Show me some thanks, please.”

Jae shakes his head, but still thanks her.

“Sorry, sorry. And thank you. I’ll go and get some samples, then.” He makes to stand, but Alex stops him, giving him a half-confused, half-judging look. It’s still kind of cute, since she’s wearing the same two hair buns as always, which make her look like a pouty five-year-old.

“Who do you think I am?” She questions rhetorically, taking two sample tubes out of her lab coat’s pocket and holding them up to Jae’s face. “I even got you a second one, like you always ask for. Happy now?”

Jae snorts, taking the samples from her hands before she drops them.

“Very. Thank you.”

The next couple of hours are spent analyzing the fluids from the patient’s lungs in order to try and find anything remotely weird about them – namely, a possible trace of ARD-22.

Seoyeon leaves halfway through, going for a break, but still taking the tablet with her – Jae swears she must sleep with it, he’s never seen it out of her hands unless she’s letting someone else use it.

Alex stays with him, partly helping, but mostly annoying the fuck out of him.

“So, I couldn’t help noticing,” Jesus, Jae thinks, it begins. “You know I sleep on the same floor and area as you, right?”

“How could I ever miss it?” Jae retorts, eyes not leaving the ocular lenses of the microscope.

“Well, you never came back to your bed.” She comments, her tone asking the question for itself.

“I slept with Brian.” Jae states, freezing a second later as he realizes the implications of his wording. “Wait—”

“Fuck, Jae, keep the sexy details to yourself, I don’t want them.” Alex cuts him off, stopping in between words because of her own laughter. Jae glares through the lenses of the microscope, refusing to meet her eyes, but still feeling a blush creep up his neck.

“There are no sexy details. We just slept on the same mattress. Friends do that.” He counters, a bit too defensive. Alex huffs, but doesn’t push him any further. Jae’s thankful for the silence, at least.

“Mr. Park.” The two of them look up at the incomer – it’s a military soldier. Jae tries not to frown.

“Is it time for the news already?” He asks, not needing a confirmation from him. He sighs as he stands up, trying to prepare himself for today’s round of questions to which he still has no answer to.

_“The UN has declared most European nations will be closing their borders by tonight – the organization states that it’s something they should’ve done from the start, and doing it now might not be enough to save the greatest number of lives. Many of the continent’s citizens have begun booking flights, looking for refuge in the middle of this chaos._

_“Meanwhile, Australia has declared itself to be a safe haven, claiming to have not only eradicated the virus as well as having closed its borders to the rest of the world. Many infected people were exterminated in order to control the spread and keep the healthy alive, says the Prime Minister._

_“Closer to us, we have sources who claim the situation in Mexico and Brazil has begun worsening, as the number of ammunitions shortens and the number of infected rises. Governors from both countries have expressed their worries for the safety of the people, but still haven’t released official statements._

_“Regarding our own situation, although there’s been many protests and cries for help, the president hasn’t given any new official statements about our country’s plan to fight the virus. All that’s been said is that the government and the scientific community are doing their most to try and fight the virus, but with no real results so far.”_

“I… It’s not important from here on.” Jae cuts in from his translation, watching as quite a few people frown and curse at him, because how could it _not_ be important?

Still, he doesn’t translate the newscast any further, instead looking for a way out of the spotlight. He wishes Brian would come rescue him, like he had the day before. But alas, there’s no sight of the neurologist, and so Jae must fend for himself.

He manages to escape back to his fake lab, where Seoyeon is waiting with her tablet on hand.

“Mr. Park!” She calls, as soon as he walks in. Jae raises his eyebrows, the agitation in her voice unexpected. Seoyeon clears her throat before continuing. “I mean: Mr. Park. The program has found a match. I have the results from the patient’s medical records.” She announces, and Jae too, becomes anxious.

“What do they say?” He questions, gesturing for her to read it out.

“His name was Seo Woobin, he was 34 years old at the time he died. Last year, he caught ARD-22 and almost died from it, but managed to recover.” She reads, stopping to look up at Jae’s expression.

“Shit…” He mutters. “Fuck, we might be right.” He curses again, racking a hand through his hair. Seoyeon nods.

“We might be.” She agrees, hugging her tablet.

“I need to get the results from the lung fluid tests, maybe there’s still some kind of residue we can link to the current virus.” Jae begins making a mental list of the rest of his day. “Huh, okay. Okay.” He takes a deep breath, calming down so he can think clearly. “Seoyeon, please find Alex and tell her to get new samples of brain and lung fluids.” He asks, to which Seoyeon nods assertively and proceeds to leave the room in search of the lab assistant. Jae leans back against a table, thinking out loud about what he should do next.

“Lunch.”

“Yes, I should have lunch.” Jae agrees, absentmindedly nodding his head as he keeps listing his to-do chores. A second later, he frowns and does a double take. He looks up and finds Brian leaning sideways against the doorframe, smirking hard. “Asshole. What are you doing here?”

The neurologist closes his eyes as he shrugs, the action in itself making Jae’s frown deepen.

“Waiting.” He answers. Jae prompts him to elaborate. “For you.” He completes.

“I have a shit ton of work right now; you will not believe what just came in from—”

“I don’t care. We’re having lunch. Right now.” Brian sends him a pressed lipped smile, which pretty much says “you’re coming with me whether you like it or not”.

Jae sighs.

“Fine.” He relents, inching himself up from the table and following Brian out of the room.

The kitchen area of the bunker is rather small, considering it has to provide food for almost 30.000 people. Everyone must only go there to pick up their food, and then go eat somewhere else, otherwise it would always be packed. There’s also a specific schedule for going to get food, so you either remember yours, and get your food on time, or you have to go without eating (Jae still doesn’t know what Brian had done the previous day to get him those snacks).

There’s a relatively small line (no more than two thousand people) for the food, and Jae sighs upon laying eyes on it.

“I could be working right now.” He mutters under his breath, and Brian either doesn’t listen, or just blatantly ignores him.

The line moves fairly quick, as everyone is handed a portion of food consisting of a bowl of rice and vegetables and a bottle of water. Everything, from the bottle and bowl to the cutlery, is made out of metal, so it can just be shoved into a washing machine and reused in the next meal. The food tastes bland, and the water, which should have no taste, feels almost bitter in Jae’s mouth.

“They added minerals to it.” Brian comments, noticing Jae’s facial scrunch.

After getting their food, the two of them had gone back to Jae’s little sleeping cubicle, and were now sitting down on his mattress. Jae glares at his water.

“That’s disgusting.” He says, taking another sip of it anyway. Brian snorts at him.

“Just eat, hyung. I’ll let you get back to work after you do.” He gestures towards the bowl Jae had carefully placed on the floor next to the mattress, and Jae raises an eyebrow at the younger.

“You’ll ‘let me’, will you?” He repeats, an amused smile making its way onto his lips as Brian becomes visibly flustered.

Jae’s glad they have each other. He really doesn’t know how he would survive without the younger looking out for him. Just the previous day, he could’ve easily fainted and hit his head on the corner of a table or on the floor and died. Granted, he’s probably being a bit dramatic, but he can’t help being thankful – not that he tells this to Brian. The younger would never shut up about it if he did.

The days go by more or less like this – busy with research and examinations, the four of them keep trying to figure out whether their theory is correct, and whether it’s safe to tell the scientific community about it.

Before Brian knows it, three weeks pass, marking the first complete month they’ve spent underground. Jae looks to be doing alright; at least he’s eating and sleeping. They still can’t get a hold of his family, and even though Brian can sense the way his entire frame stiffens whenever the topic’s brought up, he can also tell he’s doing better now (but he’ll be damned if they don’t find out what happened to them, and why they can’t reach them).

They’ve been sleeping together in Brian’s bed since last week, after one day Jae showed up on Brian’s cubicle at four in the morning, with a pillow under his arm and his glasses hanging low on the bridge of his nose. In his own half-asleep state, Brian just told the older to stay with him instead, and Jae’s answer came in the form of a small nod, before flopping down next to him. He won’t lie and say it hasn’t helped him too. The two of them wake up next to each other every day now, sometimes in each other’s arms.

They don’t talk about it, and Brian never brings it up either – they’re friends, best friends to be precise, friends do these things. And yet, every time Brian opens his eyes in the morning and the first thing he sees is Jae’s peaceful sleeping expression, he feels his heart tighten in his chest, and he wants nothing more than to lean close and touch his lips to Jae’s. He never does it, though, and he never will – that’s not how things are between them, or have ever been. So, he takes what he can get and holds these little moments in his heart, hoping he never has to go a day without Jae by his side.

By the fifth week underground, they find their first real answer.

Brian is currently in his office, busying himself by running simulation after simulation, trying to figure out how the virus could’ve travelled from the infected person’s lungs to their brain, and whether the vaccine they thought killed it actually catalyzed its symptoms and consequences. Weirdly enough, after five weeks, there still isn’t a proper name for this virus. By now, people know what the subject is at the simple mention of the word “virus”, so Brian is thinking perhaps that’s its name. They’ve also began calling the infected people of zombies, given they do resemble the fictional monsters. Jae refuses to call them zombies (because of course he does, he also doesn’t call his assigned lab a lab), but then again, that’s just Jae being Jae. Brian finds it cute – not that’s he’s told him that.

There’s a knock on his door and Brian looks up to see who’s there, clearing his head from his pointless thoughts in the meantime.

“Yes?” He asks a bit louder than necessary, so he’ll be heard outside. Alex peaks into the room.

“Can I come in?” She asks, even though she walks in before Brian actually answers. He still gestures for her to come inside anyway.

“What’s up?” Brian raises an eyebrow at her expression. “Are there any news?” Alex nods, clearly holding herself back from screaming at him. “Alright, tell me.”

“We were right.” She says, and Brian stops breathing for a moment. “We were right, Brian. The results from the new lung fluid tests came in a few minutes ago. They match the results you got. It’s connected.”

Brian is left in between awe and horror – if they are right, then that means…

“We need to tell the others.” He concludes. It seems only logical that they do.

“Jae is going to.” Alex nods in agreement. “He’s putting everything we got together so he doesn’t mess it up, even though I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t.” She says. Brian still can’t quite grasp it – he believes in their theory, always has, but knowing it’s actually right? He feels a chill run down his spine at the thought of it – they’re talking _thousands of millions_ of people, infected overnight.

This also leaves many other questions still unanswered – Where did the virus come from? Why do the infected eat brains? And why only human brains but not other animals’? How can they cure it? Is there even a way to cure it? Can they prevent it, if they can’t cure it?

Brian is jolted from his inner turmoil as whispers coming from outside his office progressively turn louder. It must be time for the newscast again. Alex and him exchange a look before silently agreeing in checking out what could possibly have happened to cause a riot now.

Brian’s thankful to find the same young woman from last week next to the big screen displaying the news, instead of Jae. Translating isn’t Jae’s job, he’d volunteered to do it one time, and suddenly had found himself forced into doing it every day, but thankfully, this lady had stepped in last week, claiming to be a translator herself, and so the older had freed himself from the hassle.

Searching the crowd for a few seconds, Brian quickly finds the weird, but still pretty, blond highlights, quickly telling Alex he’s going to the front before he’s casually jogging over.

“Hey.” He greets quietly, chuckling as Jae quickly blinks at him. “What’s going on?”

The older frowns, looking back at the screen.

“I’m not sure, but I think it’s bad.” Brian expects nothing else. “Something to do with the governors.” Jae adds, and that does make Brian confused.

“Of which country?”

“All.” Jae answers. Brian’s eyes widen as he finally looks at the screen with closer attention, reading the headline of the news.

He must be going crazy, because what he reads cannot be true. Once the journalist starts speaking, everything becomes even more confusing.

_“On this day, we have been left alone to fend for ourselves. Our president, along with Canada’s, Brazil’s, Russia’s, Germany’s, France’s, Japan’s, both North and South Korea’s, as well as many others, have fled their countries. Alongside many well-known celebrities, powerful businessmen, and influencers, politicians all around the world have taken their leave without so much as a goodbye. It makes you wonder whether they ever even cared._

_“As of now, Australia is the only country in the whole world known for having exterminated the virus, so it comes as no surprise that all these powerful people have taken refuge there. We’ve also heard from our sources in Europe that, as of today, all flights out of the continent are strictly forbidden._

_“Scientists all around the world keep doing their upmost to find a cure and—”_

The newscast is cut short as the signal dies.

Brian can’t believe what he’s just heard. The most protected people, the most powerful, the most capable of paying for the means to find a cure – they _left_?!

Someone from the military changes the channel, but the signal is still not working, which is becoming progressively more concerning. There’re about ten channels before they catch one that works. It’s from a Japanese newscast.

_“—total shutdown in American communication systems. It seems likely whoever has caused this to happen may try to redirect their cyber-attack to the rest of the—"_

The signal is cut again.

For a second, all they hear is the rain-like sound coming from the screen, and then, everyone starts screaming out questions.

Brian is so completely stunned he only realizes he’s shaking once Jae’s hand envelops his own.

“It’s okay.” Brian feels like all the panic he’d tried bottling up is pouring out, and he can’t stop it. He can’t breathe. Jae’s leading him out of the crowd, he keeps repeating those words over and over again, and Brian just _can’t breathe_. “It’s okay.”

Jae doesn’t let go of Brian’s hand until they’re away from everyone – he takes him to the conference room, where he knows no one will bother them.

He lets go of Brian’s hand only to close the door behind them, and then he pulls the younger into a hug.

“It’s okay.” He says again. Jae has no idea what else to say – and he also knows everything is _not_ okay, is actually very far from okay, but Brian seems to calm down at his words, so he keeps telling him. “It’s okay.”

Brian’s hands wrap around Jae’s middle, and he leans his head against Jae’s chest. He’s listening to my heartbeat again, Jae thinks, smiling as he starts running a hand through the younger’s hair, as his other one rubs circles on the low of his back.

“That’s right, I’m here.” He assures, feeling Brian dig his fingers into the back of his clothes. Jae doesn’t mind it. For the next couple of minutes, they stay like that, silently calming each other down, hugging close until Jae’s not sure if the warmth is coming from himself or from Brian.

“I’m sorry.” The younger whispers after a while, loosening his hold on Jae’s clothes. Jae frowns, but he doesn’t get a chance to speak as Brian continues. “I panicked. Sorry, I don’t know why—”

“Hey, no.” Jae cuts him off, bringing the hand previously on his hair down, and inching the younger’s chin up with his index finger and thumb. “Look at me, Bri. It’s okay. Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.”

Brian takes a deep breath, eyes never leaving Jae’s, before he releases his hold on the older’s clothes and leans back.

“But wait,” He speaks up, eyes widening. “if the attack targeted the communication systems, then doesn’t that mean—”

“We have no way of telling the others about what we discovered.” Jae completes, suddenly unable to meet Brian’s eyes. “Maybe you were right Bri, maybe we should’ve told them sooner, now we can’t even let them know about it.” Jae shakes his head, disappointed in himself.

“No, hyung, we did good not telling them. They would’ve dismissed it if we hadn’t gathered enough proof. And you couldn’t know this would happen now. None of us could…” He trails off. Jae lets out a dry, empty chuckle, looking back up.

“How did we get here, Bri?” He asks, knowing neither of them can answer. Still, he’s surprised as he hears the younger snort quietly.

“You pulled me here.”

Jae zeros in on Brian’s smug little smile. “Idiot.” Still, he finds himself smiling back. “Lunch?” He suggests, since it’s almost time the kitchens close. Brian raises an eyebrow, clearly not expecting Jae to be the one bringing up food. “What? Go on, tell me you’re not hungry.”

“I—” The sound of his belly rumbling cuts the younger off, making him flush red to his ears. Jae laughs, more softly than teasing.

“Thought so. Come on.”

They don’t realize how bad things actually are until a few days later, when the lack of means to communicate and browse starts having a bigger impact in their lives.

For one, they stop having updates of what’s going on in other parts of the world – they don’t even know what’s going on outside of the bunker. Some of the military soldiers try to fix the old radio of the bunker, located in one of the closest rooms to the surface, but without a working satellite to transmit a signal, it can only reach a perimeter of about 40 miles, and they have yet to find the frequency of the closest bunker. The nearest should be SL-2, located near the Han River, but they don’t know whether the other bunkers have their radios on, and if they do, then they don’t know which is the right frequency to reach them. And even if they can reach them, they don’t know what to tell them. The list of things they don’t know keeps growing and growing until no one is sure of anything anymore.

The bunker starts feeling small, way too small, even if it’s big enough for such a big amount of people, it feels small, claustrophobic even. The walls, made out of white concrete, are not painted over, safe for the numbers of which floor and area they’re on, and the lack of color makes everything feel gloomier.

Brian barely has any time to spare after he joins the psychological joint of the hospital, as the mental health of many people quickly starts worsening.

Jae, on the other hand, has too much free time. His research and tests, along with most of the simulations he runs, were all either in Seoyeon’s tablet or in a research computer, and though all of technological gadgets are still working, the absence of a network is greatly affecting his work. All of his latest research and exams had been mostly run through an online data base, since whoever had brought the supplies into this bunker, clearly hadn’t seen a worldwide cyber-attack coming.

The point is, Jae has nothing to work with. Absolutely no resources to run tests or simulations, and it’s driving him insane. He keeps thinking back to his lab – his real lab, on the surface – where he has a very large stash of chemicals and utensils he needs to run almost every test he can, along with books he can use instead of the scientific data base. It’s pointless, he knows. It’s not like he can just go out and get the things he needs.

If he could, he would, but alas, it’s strictly forbidden to leave the bunker, unless you’re not planning to come back. The only people authorized to leave and return as they please are the military personnel, and they don’t usually do much more than stalk around with their big weapons.

They also allow entry to surface survivors, who are rare, but still come from time to time. The first time it happened was about a week ago.

Three survivors made their way into SL-3. They were escorted by the military straight into the hospital, into a properly quarantined room.

Jae immediately volunteered to examine them, since he quickly realized they’d have to somehow be tested for the virus. Brian was deeply against it, but the older still had his way.

The three survivors were actually all of the same family – a mother, a son and a daughter. All of them adults. They had no visible wounds, safe for some bruises and light scratches, which were already healing. No scratch wounds nor bite marks, no visible signs of Hydrocephalus, no orange blood. The three of them were fine, Jae had concluded. Well, physically at least.

All of them showed clear signs of trauma and anxiety, which could only be expected.

Jae is no psychologist, but he’d still asked them some routine questions, not only to try and know whether he should send them to the psychological area right away, but also because he was curious, and those people, those _survivors_ , were the closest he had to actually picture the outside world.

“It’s chaos.” They’d said. “Many buildings burned down, there’re corpses everywhere, and t-the, the monsters… they’re smart. T-They’re fast and strong, and they don’t die, not unless you k-kill their brains.” The expression might’ve sounded weird at first, but Jae began making sense of it later.

Killing the brain – if the virus has taken hold of the organ, in order to kill it and its host, you need to kill the brain. It also means a cure is found once they understand how they can kill the virus but not the brain nor the host.

Jae’s tried, he’s tried to make use of what he has, but for the past week or so, he’s made no progress at all.

He’s of no use, without the proper equipment. Lately, he feels like the only useful thing he can still do is cuddle Brian to sleep. Brian has been working nonstop, by nighttime his eyes are so droopy Jae almost has to drag him to bed and feed him dinner. The younger never protests, already too sleepy to even notice how Jae babies him, and once the food is over, Jae helps him out of his work clothes, leaving him only with his undershirt and boxer shorts. At that point, Brian is a shivering mess, half asleep, half freezing. Jae simply helps him under the covers, getting in himself afterwards, and it’s a matter of seconds until Brian snuggles close to him, searching for his warmth.

Jae lies awake most of the nights, arms wrapped around the younger, one hand usually placed on his hair, gently petting it. It’s the best he can do. He wishes he could do more to help, throughout the whole day, he wants to do more, but by night, once the silence surrounds him and all he hears are Brian’s little snores against his chest, Jae thinks maybe doing this is enough – maybe taking care of his own little world is enough.

And yet.

“No.”

“Brian. Let go of me.” Jae’s words come out sounding harsher than he intends them to, but the younger doesn’t budge.

The two of them are by the least frequented area of the bunker – near its back-door exit. Brian is still panting, after running here all the way from the hospital, barely catching Jae before he left.

“You’re coming with me.” Brian states. It’s not a question, not a by a mile, and though Jae wants to, he can’t.

“I won’t take long. I promise nothing is gonna happen to me.” He tries to convince the other, casually adjusting the strap of the empty backpack on his shoulder, but Brian knows as well as him there’s no way Jae can guess what’ll happen if he steps foot outside. “Look,” He sighs, racking his free hand through his hair. “I need my stuff, Bri, otherwise I’m literally useless! I can’t even run regular tests anymore, much less try to find a fucking cure. I _need_ my stuff, I’ll go, get them, and come back. Simple as that. Now, let go of my hand.”

Brian is staring at him with a look Jae can’t decipher, between frowning and grimacing, and he doesn’t know what else he can tell the younger, but soon someone from the military will come back to guard the door and catch them, if they keep this up. Brian lets go of Jae’s wrist.

“Alright, fine.” He shrugs, then proceeds to take off his medical coat. “I’m going with you.”

“No.” Jae denies, quick as lightening. “You’re not.”

“Why not?” Brian tilts his head sideways, feigning ignorance. “I can help you carry your stuff back here.” He suggests. Jae shakes his head.

“No, Brian. You can’t. I would never forgive myself if something happened—”

“I thought nothing was going to happen.” Brian cuts him off, crossing his arms over his chest. “So?”

“No. I’ll go, you stay. Nothing is gonna happen to me. Just… go back to work. I’ll be back before you notice.”

_Be back before you notice_ , Brian must repeat those words over a thousand times for the next two hours, as he completely fails to do anything helpful at the hospital, to the point they dismiss him for the rest of the day.

Brian makes sure to stop by the lab, to tell Alex he failed in stopping Jae to leave. She pats his back and tells him it’s okay, that when Jae has something on his mind, nothing can put him off of doing it. Brian knows this, of course; he’s glad at least Alex is on his side, he’s always known she’s the best out of them all.

Each minute feels like an eternity, and as Brian glares at the small clock placed on one of the tables, he understands what Jae had meant about this room being anything but a lab – everything is just… not right. He probably gains a whole new pound of muscle in his legs as he spends at least an hour shaking them non-stop, a nervous habit he’s had since early college years. God, he’s so anxious he even loses his appetite.

When, a whole two and a half hours after having left, Jae bursts open the door to the lab, Brian isn’t even sure if he’s hallucinating or if the older is actually there.

“What did I tell you?” Jae smiles smugly, closing the door of the lab and placing down his heavy-looking backpack.

Brian barely notices he’s on his feet until he’s running and tackling the older into a bone crushing hug.

“I hate you so much.” Brian says against the crook of Jae’s neck, teeth gritted as he holds onto him for dear life. Jae chuckles and hugs him back around the waist.

“I’m alright, BriBri. Sorry for making you worry.” He assures, rubbing Brian’s lower back to soothe him.

“At least tell me you brought everything you need.” Brian asks, expecting Jae to answer him right away. However, when he stays quiet, Brian pulls back to look the older in the eyes. “Jae. Tell me you’re not going out again.”

Jae looks away from him.

“Sorry.” Is all he says. Brian punches him on the shoulder, hard. Jae winces, but takes it nonetheless.

“Park Jaehyung, you’re not going anywhere.” Brian warns, griping the elder’s shoulders as he talks. Jae still sends him a smile.

“What, no ‘hyung’?”

“You don’t deserve it.”

Jae takes a hand to his chest, faking a wince.

“Ouch. Where’s the respect for your elders?”

Brian frowns, not in the mood to joke, not when Jae’s being a suicidal idiot.

“I have no respect for stupid assholes who have no regard for their own lives.” He snaps, pushing Jae away in order to leave. He doesn’t get very far though, as Jae grabs his wrist and pulls Brian back to face him.

“Hey, wait.” At least he sounds serious now, Brian thinks. “I’m sorry.”

Brian snatches his wrist from Jae’s hold, crossing his arms over his chest.

“If you’re sorry, stay.” He says, and Jae sighs.

“Bri, I need to get the rest of my stuff. I left really important chemicals and books there, I just have to grab them and come back. It will take half the time it took today, maybe less. It was so easy today to—”

“I don’t want to hear it.” The younger stops him, even though he’s curious. Jae shuts up instantly, bringing both hands up to his chest.

“Sorry.” Stop apologizing, Brian wants to scream. “I won’t say anymore. I’m sorry. I… can we not talk about it now?” He asks. Brian doesn’t want to talk about it either. Ultimately, he’s just glad Jae came back, safe and sound, so he relents. Jae grins, the easiness quickly filling his stance. “What do you think we go grab a bite?” He suggests. “Of food.” He adds, thinking he’s so funny.

“I hate you.”

Neither of them had had a proper lunch, so they quickly grab enough food for two people each, and bring it back to the younger’s bed, eating everything in a slightly tense silence.

“Are you still sulking?” Jae asks, noticing the pout on Brian’s lips as they collect the empty bowls of food and place them on the side of the mattress – they’ll take them back to the kitchens tomorrow. The younger shrugs, clearly still sulking. Well, that won’t do. “Don’t be mad at me, BriBri.”

“Don’t go out tomorrow.” Brian counters, still not facing Jae as he takes off his medical coat, then his shirt. Jae sighs, mimicking his actions by taking off his outer clothes as well.

“You know why I have to, Bri.” Jae tries to reason, because really, if he could stay, he would. But he feels like shit not doing anything useful, while everyone is working themselves out trying to help. Brian doesn’t seem to like that answer very much, as he sits on the side of the mattress, back turned to Jae.

Jae sighs quietly, trying to think up some way of getting the younger to stop worrying so much. He’s fine, he doesn’t get what the problem is.

Figuring out a plan, Jae holds back a smirk as his arms snake around Brian’s waist and pull him until they’re both lying down on their right sides. Brian yelps as he does this, but Jae doesn’t mind it, instead starting to pepper small kisses on every inch of the younger’s skin he can reach – from the back of his neck to one of his exposed shoulders.

Brian squirms at first, but soon he starts giggling, unable to hold his ticklishness in. Jae smiles, leaving one last kiss right under Brian’s ear.

“Will you stop being mad now?” He asks, feeling the other’s shoulders sinking as he sighs.

“I’ll consider it.”

Jae huffs at the reply.

“Ah, okay then.” He says, before going back to peppering the back of Brian’s neck with small kisses, but this time around, he starts poking his sides as well, laughing as Brian squirms.

“Alright, alright! Stop.” Brian gives in, turning around once Jae finally lets him go. Jae’s eyes widen slightly as he notices how flustered Brian looks, but it’s probably just from all the giggling and squirming. He decides he’s teased him enough, at least for today, so he doesn’t comment on it.

They lie in silence for a while, matching each other’s breaths. Jae feels himself starting to get a bit drowsy, but before he can fall asleep, Brian speaks again, a barely audible whisper.

“Jae.”

“Hm?” He hums back, leaving his eyes closed. He feels the mattress sink a bit, as Brian moves closer.

“How was it?” He asks, voice still ushered. “Outside.” He adds, though Jae already knew what he meant. He opens one eye to look over at him and smiles.

“So you _are_ curious.”

His smile turns a bit smug when the younger rolls his eyes.

“Nevermind.”

“No, wait.” Jae’s quick to say. “Sorry. I’ll tell you.” He agrees, and Brian’s glare softens in the slightest. “Come here.” Jae opens his arms, waiting until Brian is close enough to properly pull him into a hug. He makes sure Brian can listen to his heartbeat.

“I thought it was going to be awful out there.” Jae admits, starting to run his fingers through the younger’s hair as he continues. “I didn’t really know what to expect, but I knew it couldn’t be good. And it wasn’t. Everything is deserted, it looks very apocalyptical – there’re abandoned cars everywhere, some of them are burned to a crisp, others are just collecting dust. The buildings look mostly the same, safe for a couple here and there where fires sprouted out. But mostly it’s just, very quiet – terrifyingly so. I expected them to be out and about, you know? To behave like in the movies, just mindlessly wandering around in huge flocks. But they weren’t anywhere to be seen. Not that I looked for them, but I didn’t come across a single one. I ran most of the way to the hospital, so there wasn’t a lot of time to look around, and God, Brian, the hospital…” Jae trails off for a second, as one of Brian’s hands grips the front of his shirt, a silent encouragement for him to go on. “It’s still the same as before, just empty. It was so weird to go there. Everything was a mess… there were— Not everyone made it out of the hospital…” He trails off as he listens to the younger’s shaky breath, and tries to think up a way to lighten the mood. “The elevators still work though—!” He gasps as Brian smacks his arm.

“You took the elevator? Are you crazy?” He scolds, a horrified look on his face. “I swear, sometimes I don’t know if you’re actually older than me, hyung.” He says, shaking his head and taking his hand back to where it’d been before, griping the front of Jae’s shirt.

At least we’re back to hyung, Jae thinks. In his book, that’s a win.

“Well, yeah. I’d already run like, a whole mile nonstop, Bri. I was legit dying.” He justifies, and Brian just rolls his eyes. “Anyway, back to the point. The lab was exactly the same as I left it, yes I remember.” He adds the last part since Brian raises an eyebrow at him. “Not all of us are unorganized like you.” That gets him another hit on the arm, but he simply huffs. “Stop cutting me off, BriBri, or it’ll be morning before I finish. I think my eyes watered a bit when I saw the lab, I never thought you could miss your workplace this much. But yeah, I just organized the stuff I deemed useful and brought as much as I could with me. I left what couldn’t fit in the bag there, so I need to go get it. On the way back, it kinda felt like I was being watched… I don’t know, it’s probably because there wasn’t a single soul outside, but it felt so weird. I think I ran back here faster than when I got out, even with the stuff on my back.” He finishes, smiling a little at Brian, who has his eyes closed. “So, you see, it was fine. Tomorrow I’ll do the same, but now that I have everything put out, I just need to grab the last chemicals and books and come back. That’s all.”

“Let me go with you.” Brian asks, burying his head in Jae’s chest. “Please.”

Jae brings his other hand up and with the two of them, he holds Brian’s cheeks, inching his face up until their eyes meet.

“I can’t.” He whispers. Brian’s eyes look shiny, as if he’s about to cry. “Hey, hey, don’t cry Bri, please. I just don’t want you to put yourself in danger. It’s not worth it.”

“How can you say that?” A tear rolls down Brian’s face as he pulls away from Jae’s hold. “How can you say it’s not worth it? You think you’re not worth risking my life for?”

“I—that’s not—Brian…”

“You’re so fucking stupid, do you know that?” He’s crying now, really crying. Jae doesn’t know what to do – he doesn’t remember the last time he’d seen the younger cry this hard (or rather, he does, but it’s been so long now, and the motive hadn’t been remotely close to the one he’s sobbing over now). “Don’t you know? Jae, how can you _not_ know?”

Jae feels a lot of things at that moment – he’s worried and he’s scared and he’s in pain. But most of all, he’s confused. Doesn’t he know _what_?

“What do you mean?” He asks, so quiet and unsure he doesn’t know whether Brian hears him.

Brian does listen, because he’s shaking his head.

“N-No…” He manages to stutter out. “You don’t know, of course you don’t.” Jae just watches, he doesn’t know how to answer, or what to do, so he just waits. “You’re stupid, and stubborn, and suicidal, and so fucking dumb…”

“I am.” He agrees, because he is. Brian glares at him through his teary eyes, and it hurts more than if he’d smacked the older like he usually does. Jae knows he won’t forget that look.

“I… Jae, you’re all I have left.”

Jae’s heart feels tight in his chest and his mouth goes dry at Brian’s words. He meets the younger’s eyes, even if it pains him to do so.

“I know.” He does know. His hands find their way back to Brian’s face, thumbs gently wiping away the tears that had spilled over. “You’re all I have left too.”

Brian takes a sharp breath, closing his eyes and reaching for Jae’s hands with his own.

“Don’t you dare…” He grips Jae’s hands, and even though he’s whispering, his words resonate in Jae’s whole body, and his eyes pierce through the older’s soul. “Don’t you dare leave me.”

If he had a choice, Jae would never leave his side.

They hold each other close – closer than usual, as if somehow, something feels different – and Jae waits until Brian’s breaths have steadied before he allows himself to fall asleep.

When he wakes up, he’s alone on the mattress, Brian nowhere in sight. Maybe he had to leave early for work, Jae guesses, scolding himself for feeling disappointed. He brushes it off, shaking his head as he gets up, and busies himself with pulling the covers up.

Today, he’ll be going outside again – hopefully, for the last time (until they figure out a cure, that is). He’s counting on making the same route as the previous day, leaving through the back door of the bunker while the military change shifts, and quickly making his way in and out of his lab. God, just thinking of his lab makes him feel hyped up already. He also hopes he doesn’t have any zombie encounters – after weeks of hearing the term, Jae has finally relented.

Brian’s words from the night before are still fresh on Jae’s mind, and he wills them to stay that way. He wants to remember, wants them to serve as motivation to do everything in his power to stay safe.

He decides to go to the pretend lab first, so the military soldier assigned to keep an eye on his team doesn’t suspect anything. Alex and Seoyeon are both in the room when Jae gets there, and they seem to be busy.

“Good morning.” Jae greets, sending them a small smile. Alex steps back from where she’d been standing, placing both hands behind her back.

Seoyeon nods at him in acknowledgment.

“Good morning, Mr. Park.” She replies, then goes back to look at the screen of her tablet.

Jae can tell she’s no longer paying him attention, so he walks up to the cabinet he’d kept his stuff in and pulls out his backpack, casually placing a strap over his shoulder.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.”

Jae flinches as Alex speaks, quietly but still loud enough for Jae to hear.

“What?” He feigns ignorance, turning to look at her.

“You’re going out _again_?” She frowns at him, and Jae’s eyes widen, flying towards the door. Thankfully, he’d closed it upon entering.

“Shut up!” He whisper-yells. “Want me to get caught?”

Alex scowls.

“Maybe I do, at least you wouldn’t be going out and putting yourself in danger like this.” She answers, placing her hands over her hips. “What’s so important you need to go out _again_ to retrieve anyways?”

Jae sighs, stepping sideways to show her the cabinet.

“Look.” He points to it. Alex’s eyes almost glimmer as she sees everything Jae’d brought back the day before.

“Shit.”

“Yeah.” Jae agrees. “There’s still more stuff we could use, maybe the most important stuff, I don’t know. All I know is we need it, if we’re planning to get anywhere near a cure.” He reasons, knowing it’ll shut her up.

Still, she looks wary.

“What does Brian think about this?” She asks, making Jae frown at the mention of the neurologist.

“What does it matter what he thinks?” He snaps, knowing fully well it matters – maybe more than anything. Alex raises her eyebrows at his reply.

“Did the two of you fight?” She guesses, making Jae cross his arms over his chest.

“No. What does this have to do with me going out?”

“Oh my God, you _did_ fight. I thought you were looking tired, now it all makes sense. You had a disagreement with your precious Brian, and I bet it was because of all this.” She smirks as Jae’s scowl deepens.

“I—what? Stop twisting my words. And he’s not my Brian—”

“Only because you haven’t asked.” Alex effectively shuts him up with that, casually walking away after dropping those words on him. What? Jae frowns after her, trying and failing to make sense of what she’d just told him.

After a minute he shakes his head, deciding it’s useless to try to make sense of _anything_ Alex says.

“Whatever.” He finds himself saying. “I’m going to the Morgue to try and run a few tests.” He makes up, just so Seoyeon (and possibly, the military soldier outside) can hear it. “Alex, you manage the place while I’m gone, but don’t let the power get over your head. I’ll be back soon.” Jae nods once, adjusting his glasses on his nose bridge. Alex rolls her eyes at him.

“Just go already.” She dismisses, but when Jae actually makes to go, she calls him again. “Jae.”

“Yes.” He looks back at her, noticing the frown she’s clearly trying to hold back.

“Please get back safely.” She asks, speaking quietly so no one else listens. Jae finds himself smiling.

“I will.” He assures, deciding that’s about enough sappiness, and finally leaving the room.

He nods politely at the military man – who pointedly acts as if Jae doesn’t exist – and quickly makes his way to the back exit of the bunker.

There, he finds a familiar face. Brian is staring at the floor as if it’d personally offended him.

“There you are, haven’t seen you all morning.” Jae greets, bumping his shoulder against Brian’s. When the younger stays quiet, Jae’s smile slowly dies on his lips. “You okay?”

Brian ignores his question, finally looking up and meeting his eyes.

“Are you really going?” He asks instead. Jae sighs, leaning against the wall next to him.

“Yeah, I’m going.”

Brian nods, not at Jae, but at the floor, like he’s telling himself what to do next.

“Then, can you do me a favor?”

“Of course.” Jae answers without hesitation. Brian takes a hand to the back of his jeans and pulls out—what the fuck.

“Take this.” He holds the gun up. “It’s loaded.”

Jae’s eyes are so wide he fears for a second his eyeballs might pop out.

“Brian, what’s this for?”

Brian sighs, worry washing over his face.

“You know exactly what it’s for, Jae.” He replies, shoving the gun on Jae’s chest. “If you won’t take me, take this instead.”

Jae brings a hand up to his chest, holding the gun there as he keeps gaping at the younger.

“Where did you even get this? We’re not allowed to—”

“Says the idiot who’s breaking the law and going outside. _Again_.” Brian interrupts, eyes boring into Jae’s. After a second, though, his gaze turns softer, almost pleading. “Please, just… be careful.”

Jae’s expression melts into a fond smile, as he grips the weapon a bit tighter and ruffles Brian’s hair with his free hand.

“Don’t worry, BriBri, I’ll be back soon.”

The extra weight of the gun on his hands makes Jae feel even more on edge, and yet, a bit safer. He makes a mental note to thank Brian later.

He bypasses the deserted streets, trying not to focus too much on the stench of blood and death surrounding him. The path to the hospital is clear, just like it’d been the day before, and he sighs in relief as he reaches the automatic doors of the building and finally walks in.

Jae uses the stairs this time around – a little something in the back of his brain yelling at him not to use the elevator – trying to make as little sound as possible as he bolts his way up to the third floor.

His lab looks the same, not a single thing out of place from yesterday. Jae allows himself to smile at the sight of it, even as he feels a knot forming in his throat. There’s no time to be emotional right now, Jae thinks, shaking his head and hoping to let his anguish go.

He drops the gun on the first counter and jogs towards the opposite end of the lab, where he’d left his most useful chemical reagents and books. He looks over at them, picking up a few bottles of chemicals he’d selected the day before and wrapping them in pieces of cloth so they don’t make noise nor break. He squints as he takes a quick look at the names of the books in the shelf atop the chemical keeper, quickly finding the ones which he’d deemed most important for his research.

He grabs two of them, and right as he does, there’s a loud crash sound, and it’s like time freezes over.

Jae flinches in place, taking his free hand to cover his mouth so he doesn’t scream. Wide eyed, he looks at the opened door, then at the loaded gun, on the furthest counter from him.

“No...” He mutters, diving behind the only counter turned horizontal in the room, which is, coincidentally, the furthest one from the only door. “No, no, no please, no...” He whispers, trying to keep his breathing as regular and quiet as possible. This can’t be happening – there was _no one_ outside! Yesterday, there wasn’t a single soul to be seen. Did they- Could they have lured him into a corner? Jae remembers then, one of the survivors telling him the zombies were smart. No, it can’t be. They would’ve known – someone would’ve told him. They can’t be this smart. He looks down at his hands and finds them shaking. Closing his eyes, he wills himself to take a deep breath, doing his best to calm down.

He can hear them coming, the sounds of their steps echoing through the halls of the hospital. Jae doesn’t want to die like this. He can’t.

_Don’t you dare leave me._

Taking one last deep breath, Jae pushes his fear into a corner of his mind and starts thinking about how the hell he can get out of this alive. He puts the two books inside the bag and as quietly as he can, he seals the zip, pulling the straps of the bag over his shoulders. He’s taking his stuff back with him, just like he promised he would.

Carefully, he inches himself to peak from the side on the counter, and immediately hides again.

Fuck, is all he can think right now, holding his breath in so he doesn’t outright scream.

They’re here, in the same room, walking slowly but almost surely, towards Jae. They haven’t seen him yet, obviously not, or they wouldn’t be moving this slow, but it’s almost as if they can smell him. Can they smell him, Jae wonders.

He thinks back to the gun left on the counter closest to the door, and curses himself from abandoning it so carelessly. Brian would surely scold him for that. God, he wants Brian to scold him so badly, at least it would mean he’d see him again.

Jae peaks at the zombies again - he counts three male looking ones and a female looking one. Four against one – he hates these odds. But he can’t just give up.

Quickly, he tries to come up with a way to get to the gun. It’s a revolver gun, it probably has six bullets, meaning he has two spare shots – granted there aren’t any more zombies around. He’s suddenly thankful for all those cowboy movies Brian has made him watch. Still, Jae has never shot a gun in his life. He’s not even sure how exactly to work it.

It’s his only chance to make it out alive, he realizes. He will have to learn as he goes.

The zombies are all spread out in the lab, two on the left and two on the right. For his plan to work, Jae is relying on the element of surprise to give him a second’s delay in their reaction.

The two on the left are closer to him, he’ll have to run past them first. He’ll have to…

Jae slumps down, shaking almost uncontrollably. He’s never felt this scared in his whole life. He’s alone now, he needs to save himself, because if he doesn’t, no one else will.

I can do this, he thinks, trying to hype himself up, hoping his levels of adrenaline get high enough he can fight off these hormone junkies.

“Ahh!” He growls as he jumps up, barely noticing the four zombies stopping and locking their glazed eyes on him. He bolts past the two on the left, managing to get to the first counter and grabbing the gun.

He turns around just in time to see one of them literally jumping at him, and he screams as he presses every trigger he finds on the gun, hoping it’ll shoot. The gun goes off and a bullet hits the zombie on the neck, making him fall to the ground. He’s not dead but he’s not moving for now. Jae doesn’t have time to think as he holds the gun in both hands and aims it at the nearest zombie running towards him, forcing himself not to close his eyes as he fires. He gasps as the bullet pierces through the zombie’s head and he falls to the ground, spasming uncontrollably and screeching loudly.

“I’m sorry—” Jae cuts himself off as he feels a strong hand on his left forearm pull him, and he’s about to die.

The zombie not holding him launches himself at Jae, and he can only fire the gun in his direction, managing to shoot him by the chest.

The one holding his arm sinks her fingers on Jae’s arm, and Jae screams in pain as he feels her nails sinking into him, past his clothes and his skin. He turns to the zombie and brings the gun against her head, shutting his eyes as he fires.

The zombie falls to the floor, shaking as the excess adrenaline prolongs her life for a few seconds. Jae can’t bring himself to look away, even as he feels his left hand begin to soak in his own blood.

The two zombies he hadn’t killed start moving again, and Jae scrunches up his face in pain as he uses his last two bullets to kill them, his vision blurry by the tears streaming down his face.

He keeps holding the gun on his left hand, using his right one to try and stop the bleeding on his arm, as he stumbles out of the room, not even checking to see if there are any other zombies waiting for him outside the hospital.

He needs to go back, but he can’t. He knows he can’t go back, not like this. And yet, he has nowhere else he can go. He limps through the empty streets, in the opposite direction of the bunker.

Everything hurts. Every inch of his body is numb. The gun in his hand feels like it’s attached to his arm, maybe by the blood coating it. Jae keeps walking. He’s been walking without a destination for hours now. He can’t feel his feet anymore. He can’t feel anything. He did this. He killed them. All of them. He will never forget the looks on their faces as he shot them down. Did he even hesitate? No, he did hesitate. He did... But even as they died, they still had it in them. The same human look. The one they used to have before getting infected.

Jae stops and glances at his own forearm. His eyes are glassy, he looks and yet he doesn’t see. On his arm, the scratch wound is already turning black and purple. Maybe he should’ve just let them kill him. Maybe it would’ve been easier not to fight.

The gun drops from his hand as he gasps for air. It’s happening. He’s becoming one of them. All of this had been for nothing. In his last moments before passing out, Jae closes his eyes and, in his mind, he sees him - his last hope.

“... Brian...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm sorry. I promise it'll get better <3  
> Still, I hope you liked it~ if you like, drop a comment~  
> Please everyone, stay safe and take care of not only your physical health but also psychological health. Remember, DAY6 love you and want you to be healthy and happy <3
> 
> Let's give the boys lots of love by supporting the new comeback and show them that we'll get through this no matter what <3  
> Ps: Zombie, Stop, Afraid, Tick Tock, Love Me Or Leave Me, Day And Night, 1 To 10, and Zombie (Eng. Ver.) are my favorite songs of the album. (I literally cannot choose one, they're all so good ;-; DAY6 superband <3)


	4. Now Don’t Lose Your Fight, Kid, It Only Takes A Little Push To Pull On Through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most days, he’d work from dawn to nightfall, hoping to tire himself out enough he’d simply pass out when he got back to his bed.  
> Some nights, he managed to do it – to simply lie down and fall into a dreamless slumber. Those nights were the best, when he could afford not to dream at all. But other nights, much like tonight, he would lie awake for hours on end, staring at the ceiling and trying to keep away the memories still fresh in his mind – of wrinkled ashy skin, and violence, and blood, and death.  
> Tomorrow, Dowoon tells himself, as he feels a tear roll down his face, is going to be a better day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is taken from the lyrics of the song "Missing You" by All Time Low. Thank you so much @eajwrites for recommending me this amazing song (I've been listening to it a lot these days). Check out her works, everyone, she's got some amazing stories~ <3
> 
> Enjoy~

Funny how at night everything seems to be so much clearer. He says funny, but it really isn’t. Nights like these go by much the same, staring at the white concrete ceiling, the images he’d spent all day trying to erase suddenly clear in his mind.

It had happened a little over a month ago. Dowoon had been coming back from a bar, way past midnight, tailing after the two juniors he said he’d walk back home. His ears and cheekbones were a deep shade of red, probably because he’d drunk a couple too many beers, but it was okay. He’d just sleep it off, as he always did. He kept teasing the youngers: Seokmin – a junior from his faculty of business – and his friend, Jimin, who Dowoon had yet to learn more about.

The three of them were walking carelessly through the university’s main campus, being a bit too loud, but no one had complained yet. As he looked sideways, admiring for a second the greatness of the buildings around them, Dowoon found himself colliding with Seokmin’s back.

“Oh, sorry about that. I wasn’t—Seokmin?” Dowoon frowned. At the time, he’d been clueless about what was happening to the younger. Were it to happen now, he would’ve taken Jimin and ran, but he didn’t know. “Are you feeling alright? You look pale.”

The older reached out a hand, to measure Seokmin’s temperature, but before he could touch the boy’s forehead, he found himself being pushed away by Jimin.

“Look out!” Jimin had shouted, right before being tackled down by his friend. Dowoon froze for a second, confused as to what was going on. Maybe if he hadn’t wasted that second, he could’ve been able to save him.

“Seokmin-ah!” Dowoon had called, uselessly trying to pull the younger ones apart. Seokmin just wouldn’t budge. “Seokmin, stop it! You’re hurting Jimin!” Dowoon yelled, and at that, the junior finally reacted.

“I…” Even his voice had changed, turning raspy and throaty. “C-Can’t—” And that was the last thing he ever said. After that, Seokmin struggled a lot – to breathe, to control his own movements, to speak. Jimin managed to get out from under him, but before Dowoon could help the younger up, the campus’ speakers were turned on, and the fire alarms went off.

_“To all students and professors who can listen to this, if you aren’t infected, please make your way as fast as you can to the nearest emergency bunker. I repeat, if you aren’t infected, get to an emergency bunker as soon as possible. By sunrise, the government will be sending military helicopters to shoot down whoever isn’t inside a bunker. If you are still alive, please get into a bunker right now.”_

Dowoon had been lost then. He placed himself in front of Jimin, trying to shield the younger from his junior. “Seokmin.” He’d called. “Are you okay?”

Seokmin stopped shaking at the sound of his voice. Whatever infection the person behind the speakers had been talking about, Dowoon was starting to think maybe his junior might have caught it, and he tugged on Jimin’s sleeve, urging him to run. However, as soon as the two of them made to escape, Seokmin got back up, and Dowoon gasped in pure terror at the sight of him – his skin had gone an ashy shade of pale, and it’d gotten so wrinkled it looked like it could be easily peeled off.

“Seokmin. Can you hear me?” Dowoon tried again. However, the sound of the older’s voice only made things worse. Seokmin locked his glazed eyes on the two boys, and suddenly, he was attacking them.

Dowoon tried to defend himself but Seokmin was much stronger – which made no sense, he’d always been stronger than his juniors. He was holding back Seokmin’s wrists, the younger’s hands trying to reach for his neck, but Dowoon knew that soon, his own strength would start giving out. He turned his head in that moment, yelling at Jimin to run for help, but once he looked, Jimin’s body was lying on the floor, another person had caught him and was hitting his head against the floor, and then—Dowoon’s strength left him, and just as Seokmin’s hands wrapped around his neck, the younger was kicked and forced to roll over to the ground. Dowoon looked around for who had done it, and found the middle-aged security guard just in time to see her hold up the gun and shoot Seokmin in the head.

Dowoon screamed as if he’d been the one getting shot, the image of his friend dying one he’ll never forget. Even after getting shot, Seokmin had spasmed and screeched for a few seconds, and Dowoon felt everything in his stomach wanting to pour out of him.

“Are you okay, kid?” Asked the security guard, coming closer to him in order to help him stand.

Dowoon couldn’t speak, he knew if he tried to, he’d end up throwing up. The security guard helped him up to his feet and patted his back.

“Come on, let’s get to a bunker.” She’d told him.

Along the way, Dowoon managed to start running on his own, stopping from time to time to pull people up and drag them along. His body had started acting on its own, and everything in his head was screaming at him to just _survive_.

As he’d been trying to help a young girl up, he got tackled down again, but this time no one was coming to save him. The person restraining him was spasming already, their skin morphing much like Seokmin’s had. Dowoon knew if he didn’t fight, he would die. Desperate, he felt around the ground and grabbed a loose stone about the size of a fist, bashing it on the infected person’s head as hard as he could. He shut his eyes as blood splattered all over the front of his shirt and onto his bare neck.

“Kid!” It was the same lady again. She came back and took the corpse away from where Dowoon had been trying to hold it up. “No more stopping. We need to go.” She’d ordered, and from then on, Dowoon remembers running. Running until his feet felt like they might be bleeding, running until he was being pushed into forming a line, surrounded by thousands of equally frightened people.

Dowoon felt like he was in a movie – maybe a horror one, where the people who survived whatever was going on would simply wait in line to die. An hour later, he’d found himself walking, being pushed to go on by the lady who had saved his life – he still hadn’t learned her name.

“Your bed is here.” She’d told him, gesturing inside a small cubicle, which had only a mattress, a pillow, and a big thermal blanket. Dowoon doesn’t remember anymore whether he’d thanked her – he hoped he had. He lost track of time as he sat down on the hard mattress, staring absentmindedly at the concrete floor. His head felt empty and full at the same time, almost like he had so much to think about, he couldn’t think at all.

Finally, a thought made its way into his mind, and Dowoon’s breath got caught in his throat – his friends, his family. Were they okay?

He took out his phone, dialing his parents’ numbers. Then, he called his best friend. Then, his other friends. Then, the lady who usually took care of his family’s pets whenever they went abroad for vacation.

His phone slipped out from his hands as they trembled. No one. Maybe they’d just lost their phones, maybe there was no service here.

He got up, quickly leaning against the half-wall of his assigned cubicle when his sight went black.

It took him almost ten minutes just to find the exit from the maze that was the sleeping area, and it took him another fifteen to get to the main door of the bunker. He leaned back against it, sliding down until he was sitting on the cold floor.

Outside, he could hear the gunshots, the screams, the death. He stayed there, just listening, for a couple of hours, shivering as he thought maybe one of those screams belonged to someone he knew.

By late morning, a military soldier spotted him and took him away, sending him into the psychological joint of the hospital area once he realized the state he was in.

Dowoon has little recollection of the following week. He recalls lying in a white bed, in a white room, with white lights. He remembers staring at the ceiling – or had it been the walls? He doesn’t know anymore. He knows he didn’t see the security guard lady again, and as much as he’s tried to, he still doesn’t remember whether he’d thanked her for saving his life. A therapist came to see him on his first night there, he remembers her. He doesn’t remember what he told her – he doesn’t remember whether he’d spoken at all. On the following day came a psychiatrist, and for the rest of the week, he started taking two kinds of medicine with weird names, along with the food the nurses made him eat.

By the end of the first week underground, he’d started coming back to his senses, after the initial stage of his medicine’s side effects began decreasing. He still felt like shit most of the time, still went numb for most of the day, but at least, he’d started talking again. He talked to his therapist, a young lady who Dowoon knew as Miss Hwang, and he greeted the nurses. They all smiled and told him he was doing good, but Dowoon didn’t feel as if he was doing anything good. He didn’t like he was doing anything at all.

“Why don’t you try and get a small job?” Miss Hwang had asked him, on their last session before he was discharged from the hospital.

Dowoon had given that a thought. He wanted to do something. Miss Hwang had told him he should try to be proactive during the day, so his medicine would work better and he could fall asleep quicker at night – she hadn’t said it quite like that, but Dowoon read it in between her words. And so, Dowoon found himself a job at the kitchens.

Mrs. Lee, the head chef of **IN-7** , had told him he was cute, and therefore given him a job, which consisted of helping out with cleaning dishes and organizing ingredients. Dowoon couldn’t thank her enough. He started working the next day, and for the two weeks that followed, he went back to work in the kitchens every day. Mrs. Lee had quickly taken him under her wing, being kind enough to talk to Dowoon every day, to make sure she asked him how he felt. Those simple actions helped him to start having normal conversations again. At first, he’d simply greet everyone politely, replying with a yes or no every time someone asked him a question, but after a few days went by like that, he found himself wanting to talk back to Mrs. Lee, to ask her back how she was feeling instead.

Most days, he’d work from dawn to nightfall, hoping to tire himself out enough he’d simply pass out when he got back to his bed.

Some nights, he managed to do it – to simply lie down and fall into a dreamless slumber. Those nights were the best, when he could afford not to dream at all. But other nights, much like tonight, he would lie awake for hours on end, staring at the ceiling and trying to keep away the memories still fresh in his mind – of wrinkled ashy skin, and violence, and blood, and death.

Tomorrow, Dowoon tells himself, as he feels a tear roll down his face, is going to be a better day.

Sleeping for less than four hours has become almost a habit, so when Dowoon wakes up and finds it’s a little past eight in the morning, he doesn’t feel too tired. He takes the clean set of clothes he’d gotten the previous day from one of the laundry rooms, and makes his way to the showers, hoping he can get under the hot (mildly warm) water in less than an hour – by now, the line must be getting big.

Yesterday, Mrs. Lee had told him he should take a day off and go look around the bunker. Dowoon hadn’t wanted to, but now, as he waits for his turn to use one of the many showerheads, he thinks maybe he will do just that. Maybe he needs to.

Almost an hour later, Dowoon finds himself sharing an elevator with 58 people (yes, he’d counted), as he makes his way to the fourth underground floor – the most distant one to the surface. He swears the elevator must be struggling to work, since it takes almost five minutes to get there, what with it stopping in each floor so people could either get out or for more people to come in.

He decides to start exploring in one end of the bunker and from there, move up. As the doors of the big elevator open and all the people clear out of it – the ride had ended with a total of 63 people, himself included –, Dowoon frowns as he notices how different this floor looks from the first one.

For one (and possibly the biggest difference), the walls are actually painted over, in light but still cheerful pastel-y colors. Dowoon wonders who is so special they get to live in this floor.

The answer comes to him a few minutes later, as he wanders around the different areas of the floor – it’s completely designed for kids, which explains both the brighter ambient and the loud noises coming from everywhere.

Dowoon eventually takes a rest near a playground, leaning forwards a bit to rest his elbows on a fence-like half-wall surrounding it. The playground is much bigger than a regular one, probably four times or so the size of a normal one, and it’s filled with screaming children – at least, Dowoon notes, they’re screaming out of excitement and happiness, not fear and horror.

A little something inside of him warms up at the sight of the kids, and for a second, Dowoon wishes we could go there and play too, but he restrains himself – he’s too old, and he’d probably end up scaring the children anyway.

He shakes his head, sighing as he leans back and thinks about where to go next. However, he barely takes one step before he stops again. A few meters away from him, inside the playground, stands the most beautiful person Dowoon has ever seen.

The man looks small, even as he’s surrounded by toddlers, but he radiates such a tremendous amount of joy, Dowoon finds he can’t tear his gaze from him. Dark wavy hair, short stance and just so—happy.

He wonders how the man can smile so brightly, given the circumstances, but as a little girl pulls on his pants and holds her arms up for the man to pick her up, Dowoon understands. It’s the kids.

The handsome man picks the child up easily, as if he’s used to do it a lot – he must be a kindergarten teacher, Dowoon guesses. The little girl tells him something which makes him laugh, and Dowoon sucks in a breath at the sight. The wide toothy smile is so bright, the man’s eyes disappear behind it, as if he’s aware of how his smile lightens the world around him. The kid smiles as well, and even Dowoon finds the corners of his lips twitching up a bit.

And then, the man puts the little girl back down on the floor, and they walk away from Dowoon, not noticing him standing in awe a mere five or so meters away. It takes him a whole sixty seconds to move from his spot.

The rest of the bunker tour is much less interesting, but Dowoon doesn’t mind it at all, as he keeps thinking back to that smile. For some reason, he finds that, even though he’s already sort of forgetting the man’s overall features, his smile is still crystal clear in Dowoon’s mind – he decides it’s because he hadn’t seen a smile this wide since… well, since long.

The third underground floor is reserved for producing food, mostly occupied by artificially lit greenhouses. Dowoon wonders how much time it’ll take for them to run out of food, since it doesn’t look like there’s enough production for the amount of consumption, but he decides it’s probably best not to add “imminent hunger” to his list of things to worry about. His therapist had advised him to try not to overthink the things he can’t change, but Dowoon finds it very hard – finds himself overthinking about not overthinking. God, his head is such a mess.

He finally reaches the two floors he’d somehow already explored. The second underground floor is where most bed areas are located, and also most communal hygiene areas (never in his life has Dowoon missed private showers this much). The floor closest to the surface is occupied with the kitchens and the hospital, as well as an open communal area, which has been partially filled with mattresses, since the number of people who’d gotten into IN- 7 had been bigger than anticipated.

He makes his way straight into the kitchens as soon as he steps foot into the floor, covering his belly with a hand when he feels his stomach growling in protest – he’d forgotten to eat again.

Mrs. Lee spots him easily, shaking her head as soon as their eyes meet.

“Yoon Dowoon!” She calls from afar. Dowoon retracts into himself, hunching up his shoulders as he braces himself for the scolding. “What have I told you about skipping meal time?”

Dowoon feels guilty. He knows she actually cares for him, has explicitly expressed her worries and is constantly reminding him to take care of himself, but sometimes, Dowoon just forgets.

“I’m sorry.” He says, when he gets close enough no one else will listen in. Wordlessly, he walks into the kitchen and picks up his apron. “I forgot.” He justifies. Mrs. Lee is still squinting her eyes at him, but something in her stare seems to soften.

“You can’t keep forgetting, son.” She says, her words tender as always. Dowoon smiles, hoping he looks as apologetic as he feels. Mrs. Lee sighs and places both her hands over her hips. “Well, nevermind that. It is done now.” She dismisses, then points at Dowoon, who’s currently tying his apron around his back. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, I was going to get the dishwasher running.” He replies. “Should I not?”

“No, honey. Right now, you should eat.”

Dowoon frowns.

“But… food time is over?” He notes, though it sounds more like a question. Mrs. Lee raises an eyebrow at him, a corner of her lips inching up.

“So what? I’m the boss around here, and I say you can grab food any time you wish to, I’m not about to send someone who’s hungry away just because those damn military soldiers think they can do anything they please.” She makes a “hmph!” sound once she’s done talking, and Dowoon allows himself to smile. Mrs. Lee has a way of talking that reminds him of his mother, and he can’t help but to feel a little safer whenever she’s around.

“Thank you, Mrs. Lee.” He bows his head, still smiling. Mrs. Lee’s eyes shine when she notices it.

“You’re welcome, Dowoonie.” Then, she ruffles his hair. “Now, what about bibimbap? There’re some leftovers from today’s lunch, I can make an improvised version.” She suggests, and Dowoon’s eyes widen.

“O-Oh, no, that’s okay. I wouldn’t want to be—”

“Tsk tsk, what are you saying? I would love to make you some food.” She cuts him off before he can finish talking. “Do you know how long it’s been since I cooked proper food? You would be making _me_ a favor.” She insists, and Dowoon really doesn’t see a way he can deny her offer. He bows his head again.

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Did you go look around the bunker today?” She asks, once the two of them are sitting down on one of the tables reserved for the kitchen staff. Dowoon is looking at the giant bowl of food in front of him, which Mrs. Lee has just finished cooking. It looks so good, Dowoon feels bad about eating it alone. “Do you not like the food?” Dowoon looks up and finds Mrs. Lee frowning slightly.

“I—no, I like it. I do. It’s just… a lot. Don’t you want some?”

At his answer, Mrs. Lee smiles again, sighing almost in relief.

“Look at you, always worrying over nothing! I made this dish just for you, honey. It’s yours to eat and enjoy. I’ve eaten already.” She assures him. “Now eat up, son. You need to fill your stomach with something, otherwise you can’t take your medication.”

Dowoon nods, feeling himself turn red at the way she cares for him. He takes a spoonful of rice and vegetables and tiny bit of egg yolk to his mouth, and feels himself melt at the taste.

Mrs. Lee chuckles, clapping her hands.

“Good?” She asks, eyeing him intently. Dowoon nods, suddenly very hungry.

He eats in silence for a couple of minutes, torn between enjoying how good the food tastes and eating quickly because of how hungry he is. Mrs. Lee just watches him, like a mother watches her child eat after they’ve learned how to pick up their own chopsticks and spoon.

“You didn’t answer my question before.” She brings it up again, once Dowoon has slowed down, and is now enjoying the actual taste of the food. He looks up to meet her gaze.

“Hm?” He asks, mouth still full.

“Did you go look around?” Mrs. Lee repeats the question she’d asked earlier. Dowoon nods in reply, swallowing his food so he can offer a proper answer.

“Yes, I ended up exploring a bit.”

Mrs. Lee grins.

“Which floor did you like the best?” Dowoon hadn’t really thought about that. He tries to remember the overall characteristics of each floor, but before he can think too much, Mrs. Lee says “The fourth one, right?”

Dowoon flushes red to the tips of his ears. Had she been there? Did she _see_?

“I-I… huh?”

She rolls her eyes at him.

“Come on, the kid floor. I bet that was your favorite, right? You kept complaining about how none of the walls are painted over and it feels so lifeless, but that floor actually has some life to it, doesn’t it?” She explains, and Dowoon almost lets out a breath of relief. For a moment, he thought she might’ve been there when Dowoon pretty much froze over for a few minutes, simply staring like a creep at a handsome man.

“Yeah, it was probably my favorite one.” He agrees, hoping she hasn’t noticed how flustered he actually is. Mrs. Lee, of course, notices everything.

“Wait. What is that look for?” She asks, eyeing Dowoon suspiciously. “Do I sense… shyness?”

“I’m a shy guy, that’s why.” Dowoon shrugs, begging to whatever divine entity there might be for her not to press on.

“Hmmm yes, you are indeed.” She nods. “But I think there’s something else. Which you don’t have to tell me about. If you don’t want to.”

Dowoon looks up at her without raising his head – he can tell she’s curious about it, and really, would it be so bad to tell her? It’s not like he’s ever gonna see the man again, maybe they could laugh about it and move on.

“I… well.” Thinking about talking is easier than actually doing so. “There was someone.” He starts, and Mrs. Lee gasps in surprise.

“You met someone?!” She asks, excited already. Dowoon is quick to shake his head.

“No, no. I didn’t talk to them… I just… looked?” Why is talking so hard?

Mrs. Lee nods, gesturing for him take his time.

“I… they were playing with the kids, all happy and grinning, and I just… I don’t know. I hadn’t seen a person smile like that in a while.” He shrugs, picking up the soybean sprout and munching on it.

“So you didn’t talk to him, then?” Mrs. Lee guesses, and Dowoon chokes. He coughs a bit before looking back at her with widened eyes.

“I—how do you know it was a guy?”

Mrs. Lee snorts, probably at his ridiculousness.

“People don’t really use “them” if they’re talking about the opposite gender, now do they?” Dowoon is suddenly scared. He probably should’ve stayed quiet, now he’s afraid she’ll—“I sense that you are worrying over nothing again.”

“Huh?”

“Honey, I’m not gonna tell you how to live your life. You know, my daughter used to date another girl, and I never had any problems with it. They made a cute couple. I was sad when they broke up, but she decided to end the relationship before moving away.”

Dowoon didn’t know about this. Any of this.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is she here now? Do you…?” He trails off as Mrs. Lee shakes her head.

“I haven’t heard from her. I don’t think the service here in the bunker is very good. A lot of people from the kitchens tell me their phone calls usually don’t connect either. It might be because we’re underground, maybe it doesn’t reach here.” She starts fiddling with her apron as she tells Dowoon about her missing daughter, and he wishes he could help find her. He hopes she does find her. Mrs. Lee shakes her head. “The point is, I would never judge you for liking who like, honey. Not ever. So you don’t have to worry about that, at least not from me.”

There are times, much like right now, when Dowoon really wants to hug her – wishes he could, wishes the invisible wall around him would break, wishes he could let people in like before.

He feels choked up, but there isn’t food in his mouth anymore.

“Thank you.” Is all he knows out to say. Mrs. Lee smiles.

“No need to thank me ever, son. Now, you were telling me about this man with a pretty smile.” Dowoon chuckles at the way she shifts the topic back to that, but he decides to humor her.

“Yeah, he was really handsome too.” He tries to recall his face, but all he can see is his smile. “I don’t really remember anymore. He was short though; he was surrounded by little kids but he looked like a kid himself. And his eyes were shinning when he looked at the kids. I mean, it’s understandable, since he was probably a teacher and he must love them, but still, it was like his eyes held all the happiness in the world. And then he laughed at something a kid said, and his eyes crinkled and his smile was so wide I could almost count his teeth—” Dowoon cuts himself off as he realizes what he’s just said, but before he can apologize, Mrs. Lee is grinning – is that smugness he senses?

“You know,” She starts “that’s the first time I’ve heard you speak that much in just a sentence.” She admits, grinning harder when Dowoon blushes. “I’m glad for you.”

“Why though? I didn’t even talk to him… it’s not like I’ll ever see him again.”

Mrs. Lee’s smile is replaced with a frown.

“Huh? Not on my watch. You need to try talking to him! He sounds like a real angel. Besides, if he’s a kindergarten teacher, that would be perfect.” She points out, and Dowoon must express his confusion, because she leans in and pinches one of his cheeks. “He’d take good care of the baby.”

Dowoon pouts at that, only slightly offended to be called a baby at the age of 24.

“I’m not a baby.” He finds himself saying.

“Then man-up and go talk to him.”

Dowoon isn’t quite sure why he’s here. Well, he hasn’t been quite sure about what the fuck he’s been doing _anywhere_ since a month ago, but right now, specifically, he has not a clue as to why he’s standing there, looking like a complete outcast in the middle of a children’s playground. In hindsight, he should probably blame Mrs. Lee for practically pushing him into the elevator and telling him to “just do it”, and “it’ll be fine”. Well, Dowoon doesn’t feel fine.

He gulps down a knot on his throat as he looks around, trying to find him - the same man he’d seen yesterday.

He feels like a creep - why is he even doing this again? He shied away from talking to him yesterday, who’s to say the same won’t happen again today?

Dowoon shakes his head - no, stop. He knows why he’s here. He’s here because of that smile. That beautiful glistening smile which made something inside of Dowoon spark. Sent a shiver down his spine, and since the longest of times, it’d been a warm kind of shiver. He wonders how a smile can do all of that, and as he mulls over that thought, his eyes land on him - small yet unmistakable, hyper yet graceful, gentle yet... _terrifying_.

Dowoon turns around - why had he thought he could do this?

He should just go back; Mrs. Lee will surely give him a headache, but he can deal—

A chilling wail breaks through Dowoon’s trail of thought, and his eyes snap back towards the handsome man. He sighs in relief - it’s only a kid crying. Then, he frowns – why is she crying?

His curiosity takes over, as he steps a bit closer, listening in on the little girl’s and the handsome man’s conversation.

“ **Seonsaeng-nim**...” The little girl cries, pulling on the man’s trousers so he gives her attention. Dowoon confirms his suspicions – the handsome man really is a teacher. A kindergarten teacher. Something inside Dowoon’s chest warms as the handsome man smiles, petting the little girl’s hair in an attempt to soothe her.

“What happened, Jihoo- **ssi**?” He asks, voice soft and gentle. The little girl, Jihoo, sniffles, trying to control her sobs, but failing. “If you don’t tell me, how can I make it better?”

Jihoo looks up at him, big eyes shining with tears.

“I wanna go outside.” She explains, and oh, Dowoon notices how the man’s expression becomes strained, before he puts a smile back on. “I miss playing outside, Seonsaeng-nim...” She cries.

“Ahh, I understand. But Jihoo-ssi, we can’t go out. We have to stay here, remember?” The man tries to reason. “Here you have such a big playground, it’s almost the same as being outside!”

Jihoo starts crying again, and Dowoon feels sorry for the teacher. He’s doing his best, not mentioning the fact that there are literal zombies on the surface and if the little girl decides to go out, she’ll most likely die.

Dowoon feels around his jacket’s pockets, smiling as he finds what he was looking for. He’ll have to thank Mrs. Lee when he gets back to the kitchens, but for now, he thinks he’ll focus on helping out here.

“Jihoo-ssi...” The handsome man trails off, probably noticing Dowoon walking by.

Scared of looking at him, Dowoon focuses his entire attention on the kid.

“Excuse me for interrupting, I couldn’t help but overhearing that you want to go outside?” He says, hoping his voice doesn’t sound scary to her - he’s been told his voice sounds too deep for his face, and the last thing he wants is to make things worse.

However, little Jihoo simply nods, clearly still trying to hold back more tears. Dowoon finds himself smiling a bit at the cuteness of the child.

“Ahh, I see...” He nods, squatting down so he’s at eye level with her. Jihoo looks a bit startled, and takes a small step back. “You like to play outside?” Dowoon asks, noticing her uneasiness and deciding to keep his hands in his pockets. Jihoo nods at his question, and so Dowoon reveals the candy he’d been holding in his pocket. It’s a simple sugary treat, wrapped in a shiny yellow paper. “Do you like candy?” Jihoo’s eyes stay glued to the little treat as she nods, and Dowoon chuckles, holding his hand out a bit closer, so she can reach for it. “You can have it.”

“I can?” She asks, looking up at Dowoon’s face for the first time. Dowoon almost coos at her big bright eyes, which are slowly but surely drying.

“You can.” He nods once more. “But you need to be a good girl and stop crying, alright?” He speaks the terms, and Jihoo nods, putting on a serious expression as she takes the candy and holds it up to her face, as if it’s the most precious thing she’s ever had in her hands. “Don’t tell your friends about this, okay? It’ll be a little secret.”

“Okay.” She agrees, then sends him a toothy smile. “Thank you!” And just like that, she turns around and bolts away, back into the depths of the playground.

Dowoon watches her go, a smile growing on his lips.

He’s brought back to reality when he hears someone clearing their throat, and he remembers why he’d stepped in in the first place.

Dowoon stands up and slowly turns around. The handsome man is shorter than him by about an inch or so. He has both hands on his hips and is raising an eyebrow at him - Dowoon wonders how can he be cuter than the little girl.

“You know,” The man starts, and this close, even his voice sounds gentle, though he looks like he’s about to scold Dowoon. “Now she’s going to ask for sweets every day.” He points out.

Dowoon hadn’t thought that far ahead. 

“Huh...” It’s his clever answer. The other looks serious for a moment, then, his eyes crinkle and he presses his lips together. Is he-? Before Dowoon can finish that though, the man is giggling – _giggling_ – at him.

“I’m just kidding, no need to be all serious.” He says, smiling. Dowoon blinks, the sight almost making him go blind – he has nice teeth. Dowoon frowns at himself, what did I just think? “You okay over there?”

Right, he was holding a conversation. Flustered, Dowoon looks back at the man, and nods.

“Yeah. I just- she was kind of cornering you. Sorry to interrupt...”

“It’s alright. I’m actually thankful you did. Jihoo is very curious, she asks about what’s going on a lot, and I don’t always have explanations that don’t involve... well, the truth.”

Dowoon understands, but still ends up fidgeting with his fingers, in order to distract himself from the person right in front of him.

“Who am I thanking?” The man asks, and Dowoon’s head jolts back up.

“O-Oh, right. I’m Dowoon.” He says. The man raises an eyebrow at him and he feels his ears turn red. “Yoon Dowoon.” He introduces himself properly, bowing his head at the man he assumes is older.

“Ahh, no need for that, come on, I’m not that old.” The man is quick to say, gesturing for him to stand back up straight. “Do-Woon.” He tries out the name, unintentionally sending a shiver down Dowoon’s spine. “That’s a rather uncommon name.” He comments.

“I’m a rather uncommon person.” Wait, what? Dowoon frowns at himself, but the handsome man is thankfully too busy chuckling at his remark to notice.

“You’re funny, Yoon Dowoon.” He compliments.

Dowoon feels like he should tell him he isn’t, but then again, Miss Hwang keeps telling him to thank people when they compliment him, instead of putting himself down.

“Thank you…?” He trails off, hoping his expression is enough of a question. The handsome man makes an “o” with his mouth – a rather cute move, if you ask Dowoon – and bows his head slightly.

“Kim Wonpil.” He fills in. Dowoon finds himself smiling, his eyebrows almost involuntarily raising.

“And _I_ have an uncommon name?”

Wonpil – even his name is cute – chuckles, before narrowing his eyes at Dowoon as if he’s about to tell him a secret.

“We can be outcasts together.” He proposes, elbowing Dowoon on the arm in a playful manner. Still, Dowoon frowns.

“You’re not an outcast.” He says, in all seriousness.

“No?” Wonpil seems like he’s holding back a smile, but then again, Dowoon has never seen the other with an expression which isn’t a smile.

“You’re popular amongst the kids.” Dowoon justifies, to which Wonpil snorts.

“I’m their teacher.”

“It doesn’t mean they don’t like you.” Dowoon fires back, hoping the other will just take the compliment – he wonders if this is what Miss Hwang had meant. Wonpil shrugs, pondering over his words.

“Well, children are still better than adults, so I guess that’s a win for me.” He says, rubbing his chin as he pretends to think.

“Wonpil, a god amongst the kids.”

“Dowoon, the one who carries candy around.” The other is quick to reply. Dowoon’s face warms up yet again, and he scratches the back of his head.

“Oh… I, that’s from the kitchens.” He justifies, though he doesn’t have to. “I work there, and Mrs.—well the head chef gave them to me.” Wonpil makes an “ahh” sound, before placing both hands on his hips and raising a brow.

“Got more?”

Dowoon frowns.

“Candy? For the kids?” He guesses, but the other shakes his head.

“For me.” Wonpil answers. Oh, now Dowoon feels bad.

“Sorry, I don’t. She only gave me one.”

Wonpil pouts at that, and Dowoon is quite sure the other could easily be misplaced as a kindergartener if he wanted to.

“Oh, that sucks. Bring me one tomorrow then, Dowoon-ah.” Dowoon is quick to nod, too busy being distracted by Wonpil’s features.

“Okay—Wait what?”

Wonpil places a hand over his stomach as he snorts out a laugh – yeah, Dowoon must’ve looked ridiculous right about now.

“I want candy too.” He explains, once he stops giggling.

“I, okay— tomorrow. Alright.” He agrees. “I… should I, that is, can I call you hyung?”

Wonpil, thankfully, grins.

“Well, that depends, Yoon Dowoon. I am 26 years old. If you’re younger, and if you’re bringing me candy, then yes, you’re allowed to call me hyung.”

Dowoon hopes his blush isn’t too noticeable.

“I-I’m 24. And tomorrow. Yes. I’ll bring it. Hyung.” The younger cringes at his own stuttering mess. Wonpil covers his mouth with a hand as he chuckles.

“You’re cute.”

“Cute?” Clever, Dowoon, very clever.

Still, Wonpil only nods.

“Yes. I’m sure the kids would love you.” Right, Dowoon had sort of forgotten about the kids.

“A-Ah, thanks, hyung.”

“Have you ever considered working with kids?” The older asks. “It’s very healing.” Dowoon’s eyes widen in surprise.

“How do you—”

“I took psychology.” He clarifies, and for a second, Dowoon is astonished. But then, he adds “Also, you have a tag on your wrist.”

Dowoon facepalms mentally. He had tried taking the damn thing out, but no one would let him near a sharp object and the freaking tag wouldn’t give out – it’s freaking water resistant.

“Well shit.” Dowoon finds himself saying. Wonpil waves both hands, as if retreating.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude.” The younger frowns. “It’s okay if you don’t want to—”

“I want to.” Dowoon cuts him off, before his head-to-mouth filter can process what he should and shouldn’t say aloud. “I mean, yeah, I would like to.” He reformulates.

“Great!” Wonpil chirps, clapping his hands together – and looking like he grew a whole inch in height. “I… will see you tomorrow?” He wonders. Dowoon nods, face warm from blushing and smiling – he’s never had a face cramp before and he can say for sure he doesn’t like it.

“Yeah I guess you will.”

“Don’t forget my candy.” Wonpil points a finger at his face, and Dowoon raises both hands up to chest level, faking fear.

“I would never.”

“I met someone today.” Wonpil says, as he goes through Sungjin’s old notes as if they’re his own. The older doesn’t spare him a glance, too busy reading through whatever he’s working on – Wonpil usually doesn’t ask, but when he does, Sungjin doesn’t tell him (it’s apparently confidential).

“Hm.” Is the reply the older gives him. He might not look like it, but Wonpil knows Sungjin is listening, so he keeps on talking, all the while strolling around Sungjin’s office.

“Really cute guy. Yoon Dowoon. Isn’t that an uncommon name?”

“It is.” Sungjin nods, turning a page of his notes and still not looking up. Wonpil snorts at his best friend, but doesn’t comment on it. He’s still trying to get used to this new look of his – the older had decided to shave his hair off the day after the lockdown. It’s been a little over month now, and his hair is slowly growing back, but it’s nowhere near the length it used to be. Sungjin said it’d been a therapeutic choice – new life, new me, he’d told Wonpil. The younger could never have done it, though – not only does he love his hair too much, but the kids would surely run away from him if they saw him bald.

Wonpil comes across a paper left forgotten on the floor, and picks it up, inspecting it.

“I think this is yours.” He says, handing it to Sungjin, who finally looks up. The older squints, probably getting hit by the white lights of the room, and grimaces at Wonpil almost apologetically.

“Thanks, Pil. Sorry, I swear I’m almost done.”

Wonpil smiles, shaking his head.

“That’s alright, hyung. You have so much work, I’m amazed you’re already finishing up.”

Truth be told, he doesn’t really know what Sungjin has been doing lately. After the first couple of days underground, the military had taken over and had started calling people for various essential positions, be it on the hospital area or the kitchens. Wonpil had been placed to work with the kids, since he already had the formation, but Sungjin had been called to work in the research department. At first, the older didn’t really want to do it – not like he had a choice in the matter, what with the military forcing them to obey, but still, he wasn’t very inclined to participate in anything directly related to the virus. A few days later, however, Sungjin had completely changed his mind. He was suddenly knees-deep in research and would barely talk to Wonpil, always too busy doing something. Wonpil is used to this, he’s been friends with Sungjin since he can remember, so he doesn’t worry about their friendship anymore whenever Sungjin goes into a studying or researching spree. And yet, he can’t help but to be curious. All Sungjin tells him is he’s working alongside the scientists and doctors in an attempt to work out the virus and try to find a cure.

“Alright, I’m done.” Sungjin speaks up, breaking through Wonpil’s thoughts.

“You sure? Don’t rush it because of me, hyung.”

The older huffs, standing and beginning to collect the papers spread out on his desk.

“I’m sure.” He nods, as shoves a whole stack of sheets into a case.

“Have there been any new discoveries lately?” Wonpil asks, too curious to restrain himself from doing so. Sungjin freezes at question, which is, in itself, an answer. “There have? Anything you can tell me?”

The older shakes his head.

“I can’t yet, it’s not official. But yes, there’s news. Nothing good.”

“I don’t think there’ll be good news until a cure is found.” Wonpil chuckles, half sarcastically. Sungjin grimaces, but his expression becomes smug quickly.

“You did say you met a cute guy today, though. That’s good news, right?” He points out, to which the younger shrugs.

“Yeah, I guess. He helped me out with Jihoo, one of the little girls who is always asking me about what’s going on and why she can’t play outside.” Wonpil tells him, a smile playing on his lips as he recalls how adorable the whole exchange had been. “Dowoon was really sweet to her, and actually made her forget the question. For now, at least.”

When Sungjin doesn’t reply, Wonpil’s eyes fall onto him, and he finds the older raising a brow at him.

“So you like him?” He deducts.

Wonpil chokes on his own spit.

“I— _no_! I met him today! I talked to him once, how can I like him?!” He realizes maybe he got a little bit too defensive.

Sungjin snorts, a bit louder than necessary, at Wonpil’s reaction.

“You do like him.”

The younger sighs – there is no escaping Sungjin and the way he sees through everyone as if they’re made of glass.

“Okay maybe I find him cute, but that’s it.” He gives in. “Besides, he’s probably straight.” Wonpil adds, because Dowoon probably is.

Sungjin frowns, finally clearing his desk of the mess that had been on top of it.

“How do you know?” He asks, as the two of them make their way out his office. It’s a little over half an hour before the kitchens close for the day, and they still need to grab food.

“I tend not to have a good aim, if you do so remember.” Sungjin winces at that, but Wonpil snorts before the older brings up sad memories. “Let’s not talk about that guy, hyung. I’m over him.” Still, Wonpil finds himself shivering, as flashbacks from his high school crush and first love come back to him, which had ended with humiliation and an unwanted outing. He does not want to think back to that.

“I swear I don’t wish bad on people, but to him...” Sungjin always gets angry whenever Wonpil’s ex- _nothing_ is brought up. Wonpil finds it adorable actually – it’s the most emotional way the older ever expresses his feelings. It’s also quite funny to see him fuming, and now Wonpil is giggling.

“Let’s not wish bad on anyone, hyung. I’m alright now.” He assures, as they bypass the main communal area.

“And, you met a cute guy.” Sungjin adds, jokingly bumping his shoulder.

Wonpil rolls his eyes.

“Who is straight.”

“Who may or may not be straight.” The older corrects. “Tell me more about this Dowoon. You’re right, the name is odd.”

A small huff escapes Wonpil’s lips at that.

“It’s not odd! It’s just uncommon.”

Sungjin gives a knowing look, but the younger ignores it, instead focusing on trying to describe Dowoon as well as he can, from what he remembers.

By now they’ve reached the kitchens, and are currently waiting in line for their turn to grab food – thankfully, since it’s late, there are almost no people here, couldn’t be more than a hundred.

Wonpil recalls Dowoon telling him he works in the kitchens, so he finds himself keeping an eye out, just in case. He spots him rather easily, as Dowoon stands out from the rest of the kitchen helpers, being younger and taller than most. Wonpil elbows Sungjin on the arm to get his attention.

“Look, hyung. That’s him.” He says, nodding in the boy’s direction.

Dowoon is currently pushing around a cart full of dirty dishes, mostly likely about to put them on a dishwasher.

Wonpil kind of wants to see how Sungjin reacts to the younger, but he finds he can’t look away from Dowoon, especially when he looks like that - he’s wearing a t-shirt now, (muscled) arms exposed, jeans and a kitchen apron which has no right to look good on anyone, but Dowoon somehow makes it work.

A middle-aged woman – maybe the one who gave Dowoon the candy – approaches him, and they fall into an easy conversation, as Dowoon collects more dirty dishes. Wonpil’s mouth hangs a bit opened at the sight of the other holding a casual, comfortable conversation; nothing like he’d done with Wonpil earlier that day.

The loud snort Sungjin does brings him back to reality.

“You’re in trouble.”

Wonpil forces himself not to wince.

“Shut up.” But even he himself knows he’s in trouble.

Dowoon keeps shifting his weight from one foot to the other, as the elevator slowly makes its way to the fourth underground floor. His hands are shoved in his jacket’s pockets – or rather, his fingers are, since the rest of the space is occupied with candy. When he’d told Mrs. Lee about his and Wonpil’s conversation, she’d practically dumped her whole secret stash of sweets on top of his head.

He finds himself smiling now, as he remembers how happy she’d been for him.

The doors finally open, and Dowoon waits for most people to clear out (he hadn’t counted them today), before he too walks into the floor.

He blinks a couple of times, getting his eyes adjusted to the scenario in front of him – much more appealing than the bland one he sleeps in. Much like the day before, every division and area are filled with cheerful, loud children, who either sit down as a teacher talks, or play around in bigger areas. Dowoon assumes (hopes) Wonpil will be in the same place as the previous days, so he makes his way to one of the big playgrounds, carefully letting himself in, and extra carefully not letting any kids out.

“Dowoon- **ah**!”

He jumps at the voice, not expecting Wonpil to spot him first. When he turns around, he’s met with the older’s eye smile.

“There you are, I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up.” Wonpil pouts, but it looks more teasing than hurt. Dowoon chuckles.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“I sure hope not.” Something in the older’s expression changes, and Dowoon follows the track of his eyes. Ahh. “Is that—what’s in your pockets?” He asks, pointing with one hand to where the younger is trying to hide the candy, as the other flies up to his hip.

“Oh, hmm… you said you wanted candy.” Dowoon answers. “I—” He gasps before he can finish that sentence, as a pair of arms latch themselves to his right leg. He widens his eyes in slight panic as he looks down, but it’s only a kid.

“Candy!” Screams the kid. Dowoon narrows his eyes in amusement – it’s the little girl, Jihoo. Wonpil makes a “tsk” sound (which should probably not sound as cute as it does).

“Jihoo-ssi, that’s not how you greet people! Look, you made him scared.” Wonpil scolds.

“I’m not sca—” Dowoon’s words die in his mouth as the older turns his glare towards him. He nods, understanding the purpose of the scolding when Jihoo releases his leg and bows her head to him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She says, bottom lip pushed out in a much too adorable pout. Dowoon tries not to coo at her.

“That’s alright.” He says, then squats down to properly face her. “Why don’t you tell me your name first? I don’t think we’ve met properly.” He suggests, smiling once Jihoo nods.

“My name is Min Jihoo! I am five years old, and I like to play with my friends and eat candy.” The little one says, no doubt a practiced speech, but it still makes Dowoon’s heart flutter. He bows his head at her in return.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jihoo-ssi. I’m Yoon Dowoon.” He replies, then adds. “I’m twenty-four years old, and I also like to play with friends and eat candy.” Jihoo smiles at that last part. “In fact, I brought a few with me today. Would you like some?”

“Yes!” She chirps, clapping her hands in excitement. However, Dowoon puts on a serious face.

“I can only give it to you in one condition.” He holds up a finger to make it more dramatic. “You must promise to be a good girl and have lots of fun today. Can you do that?”

Jihoo nods vigorously, wide eyes never leaving his.

“I can do it. I can!” She promises.

Dowoon can’t help it, he laughs a bit at how sweet the little girl is.

“Alright, then. Open your hand.”

Instantly, Jihoo reaches out, looking between Dowoon and her hand expectantly. Dowoon takes out a piece of candy – today, it’s wrapped in a blue paper – and places it neatly on her palm.

“There you go. One candy for one little Jihoo.”

“Thank you, seonsaeng-nim!” Jihoo bows her head, missing how that one word makes Dowoon choke on his own spit, before she happily trots away.

Dowoon is still coughing slightly when he stands up, and Wonpil only chuckles at him.

“So, seonsaeng-nim, are you going to come work here?” He questions, arms crossed over his chest and fighting back a grin.

And what’s Dowoon supposed to tell him?

“I hope that wasn’t too boring for you.” Wonpil says, as the two of them make their way to the kitchens. It’s a quarter past two by now, and they’ve finally managed to get food for all of the kids, with the help of the other teachers. Dowoon had been better at and more interested in taking care of the children than Wonpil had expected. Still, he looks exhausted, and it’s only been half a day.

“It was actually fun. Your class is really polite.”

There he goes again, Wonpil thinks, smiling at the compliment. That’s the fifth time Dowoon shifts the attention from himself to others.

“Thanks. They really are a bunch of sweet kids.” He agrees. “But they’re also a pain sometimes, you haven’t seen anything yet.” The older promises, huffing out a small laugh.

“Oh, they- were they already your students?” Dowoon wonders, and Wonpil’s smile falters.

“Yeah. I used to work on a kindergarten near your University, actually. You probably haven’t heard of it, it’s pretty hidden amongst the houses around the campus.” He admits, fighting to keep the smile on his face. Dowoon still notices it though.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. I won’t ask anymore.”

“You weren’t, don’t apologize.”

“Sorry.”

Wonpil gives him a look.

“Sor—huh, I…?” Dowoon tries and fails to make a coherent sentence.

“It’s alright, just stop apologizing every five minutes, Dowoonie. Not everything is your fault, you know?”

Dowoon flinches at that, and Wonpil wonders what he said wrong, but the younger quickly covers it up by replacing a smile back on his face. Wonpil wants to know what happened, but he feels like he should give Dowoon time – feels like all they need is time.

“What do you wanna eat today?” Wonpil asks, the corners of his lips turning up at the way Dowoon relaxes with the change of topic.

“I don’t think we have a choice.” He replies.

“I thought you knew the head chef.” Wonpil is quick to say, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. Dowoon chuckles at him.

“I can’t use my connections to smuggle food.”

“Oh? What’s the point of having connections if you don’t get to smuggle food?”

Dowoon snorts. “I’ll consider it.”

“You do that. For now, we have” He stops dramatically, and looks at the food on the trays “leftovers~” He singsongs. Dowoon huffs a small laugh, picking up two trays and handing one to Wonpil, who takes it with a quiet thank you.

The calm doesn’t last for long as someone approaches them for Wonpil’s back.

“Pil-ah, there you are. I was looking—” Wonpil jumps, not expecting Sungjin to come out of nowhere, and his hold on the tray wavers. Thankfully, Dowoon was still holding it too, so he saves Wonpil from a rather embarrassing situation.

“Sungjin-hyung!” He scolds the older, quickly turning around. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Sungjin looks genuinely sorry as he rubs the back of his head.

“Sorry, that wasn’t my intention.” He says, before his eyes travel towards Wonpil’s food tray, and then the person holding it. He smirks. “You must be Dowoon.” He comments.

Dowoon straightens up when Sungjin turns to face him.

“I, huh, yes. That’s me.” He looks down at his hands, struggling to hold both trays of food, and bows his head. “Nice to meet you?”

Wonpil snorts.

“Sungjin, you’re making him shy. Introduce yourself properly.”

He doesn’t miss the way the older rolls his eyes before speaking. Thankfully, Dowoon hadn’t noticed.

“Sorry about that. I’m Park Sungjin, Wonpil’s _friend_.” Wonpil almost pulls a joint with the quick way he turns to glare at his best friend, who’s clearly being embarrassing on purpose.

“Here, Dowoon. Hand me that one.” Wonpil intervenes, hoping to cut the tension as he takes his tray from the younger’s hands. “Have you eaten anything?” He asks Sungjin, who shakes his head. “Then go get food. We’ll go sit in the usual place.” Wonpil turns to Dowoon again. “Is it alright if Sungjin sits with us?”

“Of course!” Dowoon answers, almost instantly. Wonpil smiles.

They make their way towards a table, near the far end of the communal area – the half not filled with mattresses is mostly occupied with tables and chairs, perfect for enjoying a calm meal.

“You seem conflicted.” Wonpil comments, as they settle down side by side on the chairs. Dowoon’s chin falls.

“Oh… sorry. I just- Sungjin-ssi looks familiar.” The younger admits. Wonpil snorts at the formal suffix, but deems it cute nonetheless.

“You can just call him hyung, I’m sure he won’t mind.” He finds himself saying. “And he might look familiar because he’s a Literature Professor at your University.” He adds, leaving Dowoon wide eyed.

“For real?!” He almost shouts, then clears his throat. “I mean, really? That makes sense.”

Wonpil is divided between laughing and cooing. He ends up doing neither, as the professor himself arrives, taking a seat in front of Wonpil.

For a few minutes, they simply eat in silence, the atmosphere a bit awkward, since they don’t really know anything about each other. It’s Sungjin who breaks the silence first.

“So, Dowoon, what were you studying?” He asks, and Wonpil frowns at his friend.

“You sound like a dad.”

Sungjin huffs.

“Well, excuse me for being curious.”

“A-Ah, that’s okay.” Dowoon speaks up. “I was on the last year of Business Management.” He tells them. “W-What about you, hyung?” He almost whispers the last word, but Sungjin still smiles at it.

“I’m done with my masters. Now, I was teaching Advanced Lit. But since the outbreak happened, I’ve been working with the research department.” Sungjin replies, then adds. “It’s actually rather interesting, I don’t think I’ve ever learned this much this quickly.” Wonpil pouts at that, only the slightest bit jealous that Sungjin talks so much to Dowoon about his work, but not with him.

“Really? That seems like a lot of pressure, though.” Dowoon comments, and not a second later, he panics. “I-I mean, no! It’s great you’re doing that, it’s just it might get a lot sometimes? Or not?”

And that, Wonpil notes, is the moment Sungjin too, decides that Dowoon can stick around. He grins like an idiot, as the older talks Dowoon down until he stops panicking, feeling happy for a change. It might just be that they need Dowoon as much he needs them.

“How was your week?”

Dowoon squirms a little on his chair, the sound of his therapist’s voice eliciting a nervous feeling out of him. He’s been acting like this for a while now, suddenly uncomfortable to talk to her. She just… keeps bringing up stuff he doesn’t want to talk about. Isn’t therapy supposed to make you feel better?

“It was okay.” He answers, shrugging. He still hasn’t looked in her eyes today.

The room is the same as always – white everything, like the rest of the hospital – but somehow, this past couple of weeks, the room has started feeling colder to him.

“Okay?” She repeats. Dowoon tries not to sigh – there she goes again. He swears he only comes here because he’s forced to. “You said the same thing last week. Was there really nothing new?”

“How can it be? We’re barely surviving here.” He snaps, finally looking up. He regrets bursting out the second the words leave his mouth, but it’s too late now. Miss Hwang doesn’t seem offended, at least. Instead, she offers a small grimace.

“That’s true. It’s definitely a different setting.” She agrees. “You said we’re barely surviving. Is that how you feel? Like you’re only surviving?”

“I… no. That’s not what I meant.” He frowns.

“What did you mean, then?”

“I don’t know.” He sighs, desperate to change the topic. “I’ve been sleeping better, though.” He says, hoping she’ll latch onto it.

“Oh? That’s good news.” Dowoon wonders if she tells that to all her patients. “So, when was the last time you weren’t able to sleep?”

“I don’t remember. Must’ve been long ago.” He replies, shaking his head.

“Do you remember what crossed your mind, when you did stay up?”

“No.”

“I think you do remember, Dowoon. Don’t you?” She presses on. Dowoon looks to the side, unable to keep facing her for long. Whatever.

“I remember certain things.” When Miss Hwang stays quiet, he understands he’s supposed to go on, so he does. “Mostly about the night of the outbreak.” He adds, stopping again to see if there’s anything she wants to add.

“Do you remember pictures, or voices? Or maybe just feelings?”

“I remember…” Dowoon closes his fists on his lap slowly. “Seokmin. And Jimin.” He breathes louder after speaking – it’s the first time he’s said their names aloud, since then.

“Who are Seokmin and Jimin?”

“Who _were_ they.” Dowoon corrects, a bitter taste filling his mouth. “They were my juniors, my friends. They were with me, when—” He rolls a hand on the air, which should be self-explanatory.

“When?” But of course, it isn’t – it never is for her. She seems to enjoy listening to him saying every word, as if speaking about it would help. It doesn’t, it only makes the memories seem fresh again.

“When the virus broke out. When Seokmin turned into a zombie and attacked me. When some other poor dude turned too and killed Jimin. That’s when.” He spits, griping his fists tighter. If Miss Hwang notices it, she says nothing about it.

“You seem rather angry about it.”

“My friends died in front of my eyes, I think I’m entitled.” Dowoon wishes he could stop – he doesn’t mean to sound this rude.

“I guess you are.” She nods. “If you don’t mind me asking,” He probably does, but she’s never cared before. “how _did_ you survive?”

“A lady saved me.” He replies, wincing as Seokmin’s death replays over his mind. “She pushed Seokmin away from me, and shot him down.”

“That must have been very difficult for you to witness.”

“Yeah.”

“How would you say it made you—”

“—feel? Is that what you were going to ask? How I feel?” He interrupts. He sounds calmer now, but it’s like he’s boiling up with anger deep inside.

Miss Hwang huffs a small smile, before nodding.

“I was going to ask how you felt. Back then.”

“I felt nothing.” Dowoon shrugs, facing Miss Hwang as she raises an eyebrow.

“Nothing?”

“I was too shocked to even move. Back then, my body acted on its own. I felt nothing but fear and despair. Watching them die, I felt nothing.” He admits.

“I remember you told me that after getting to the bunker, you tried calling your family and a few friends, but they didn’t pick up. Now, the communications are off. How—”

“Look, do we really have to do this?” Dowoon interrupts, running a hand through his hair. “I know it’s your job, and all that, but I’d rather be doing something else, and you probably would too. So can we just, call it a day?” He asks, giving her an exasperated look.

Miss Hwang is unreadable, with her polite smile.

“I’ll tell you when our time is up, don’t worry about that.” Dowoon sighs, but leans back on his chair again. “You see, Dowoon, I think there’re some things you’re not telling me. Maybe not even yourself. Have you ever considered, that maybe this anger you feel, and the emptiness you talk about and all the nights you can’t sleep—”

“—I told you I’ve been sleeping—”

“—Have you ever thought that, maybe, you feel guilty?”

Dowoon frowns. Why would he feel guilty?

“Why would I…? No, that’s not it. I don’t feel guilty.”

“You said you watched your friends die in front of your eyes. That must have made you feel powerless, perhaps? Not being able to save them.”

Dowoon opens his mouth to talk back, but no sound comes out. He huffs instead. He’s not- he doesn’t feel guilty.

“It’s not your fault they died, Dowoon.” She tells him, and he frowns up at her. “It isn’t.”

“I…” Dowoon is confused, he hadn’t been expecting the conversation to change so drastically. Now, he doesn’t even know what to think anymore.

“Our time for today is up.” Miss Hwang alerts, uncrossing her legs in order to stand up. Dowoon makes a “huh?” sound, and she adds “You had told me to give you a notice.”

He only nods, getting up from his chair as well.

“Thank you, for today.” Dowoon says, as he always does. “And I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.”

Miss Hwang shakes her head, still smiling.

“You don’t need to apologize, Dowoon. It’s normal to be confused. But please, give what we talked about some thought throughout the week. Maybe figuring out what you feel will give you some peace of mind.” She advices. Dowoon mimics her nod.

“Yeah, I’ll try to. Thanks.”

Leaving her office is, for some reason, much more freeing than getting into it – maybe because there’re doctors rushing around everywhere, and it makes the still air hit against his skin, almost like a real breeze; or maybe it’s what she’d told him, replaying over and over in his mind. He doesn’t know. He has no idea, about anything.

Dowoon takes a seat on one of the chairs people use if they’re waiting for medical attention, and fixes the floor with a glare. Do I feel guilty? For not saving them? For not being able to do anything?

He feels his chest clench, and breathing gets hard – harder than before. Dowoon shakes his head quickly. He doesn’t want to think about it.

Wonpil can’t help the grin that takes over his expression the moment he sees Dowoon, and he waves at the younger. Dowoon waves back, and Wonpil keens at the way the younger’s ears turn red in a matter of seconds.

“Good morning.” He greets, placing his hands on his hips as he inspects the bags under Dowoon’s eyes. “Did you even sleep today?”

“Good morning.” Dowoon replies, nodding his head in a small bow. “I did sleep.”

Wonpil narrows his eyes, but he doesn’t get to speak any further.

“Seonsaeng-nim!”

The two of them turn towards the source of the voice, and Wonpil chuckles as Jihoo latches herself around Dowoon’s legs.

“Good morning, Jihoo-ssi.” The younger greets, a smile growing on his lips as he pets her hair gently.

These past couple of weeks, the two of them had grown close, quicker than Wonpil had anticipated. Jihoo is usually a shy kid, and Dowoon is timid in his own way, but for some reason, they seem to get along rather well, always playing together. Of course, the rest of Wonpil’s class also fell in love with Dowoon, calling him Seonsaeng-nim and wanting to play with him. Wonpil could’ve gotten jealous, that Dowoon came in and pretty much scooped all the kids to himself without even realizing it, but instead, he feels weirdly happy, that even the little ones approve of Dowoon. The older shakes his head, reminding himself yet again to stop daydreaming.

Jihoo looks up at Dowoon, placing her chin on his thigh and pouting.

“You’re late!” She protests. Wonpil presses his lips together, so he doesn’t make a sound – he wouldn’t want to ruin this moment.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I had to go somewhere else today. But I’m here now.” He explains. “I haven’t forgotten my promise to play with you and your friends.” Dowoon adds, chuckling when Jihoo grins up at him.

“Come on! We’ve been waiting for you! The tea is getting cold!” She urges, pulling on his pants so he follows.

Dowoon looks back at Wonpil, silently asking if that’s alright.

“Go on.” Wonpil nods. “Enjoy your tea.” He says, winking playfully at the younger, who blushes furiously before walking off with Jihoo.

Slowly, but surely, everything starts falling into place again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter and the next one, we'll follow the POV of sungdopil, kind of retelling what happened in their side of the story. This was going to be just one chapter, but I felt it would be too long, so I ended up splitting it in two ^^  
> Now for some info:
> 
> IN-7 : Incheon, bunker 7. If you go on google maps, which you don't gotta, there's a University in Incheon, and that's where Dowoon used to study and also where Sungjin used to teach. Really close by, there's a kindergarten, which as you can guess, is where Wonpil used to work. So this bunker would be located somewhere near the two, going North a bit.
> 
> Seonsaeng-nim: in Korea (and correct me if I'm wrong), students don't really call their teachers by the name, they call them "teacher", which translates into "seonsaeng-nim" (the -nim adds formality). This honorific is also used by medical patients to address their doctors. Since a therapist doesn’t take medicine, I’m not sure if the honorific would apply to Miss Hwang, but I chose not to add it.
> 
> -ah/-ya: a suffix used to address people you’re familiar with (-ah is used when the name ends with a consonant, like Dowoon-ah, and -ya is used for names ending with vowels, like Jihoo-ya).
> 
> -ssi: kind of like "Mr" or "Miss\Mrs", it's a formal way of addressing older people and\or people you respect. In school context, teachers address their students formally, as a means of teaching them formal speech (since not all kids use formal speech at home), which is why Wonpil (and later, Dowoon) call the little kids in a formal way.
> 
> That is it for today~ Hope you managed to read through that without getting bored~ if ya like, lemme know what you think or if you have any questions~ <3


	5. I'll Never Let Them Hurt You, I Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It hurts...” He chokes out. It hurts so much – everything, every breath, every tear, every single time he closes his eyes, it hurts.  
> Wonpil sucks in a breath.  
> “I know, I know it hurts.” He whispers against Dowoon’s hair.  
> “Hyung, how do I make it stop?” Dowoon knows Wonpil doesn’t have an answer, but he feels so desperate he can’t help but to ask. “I just want it to stop hurting.”  
> “I know.” He pulls Dowoon closer, hugs him tighter, like he’s scared he might disappear if he lets go. Dowoon is scared he might, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy~ I hope you're having a great day ^^  
> Today's chapter title is taken from My Chemical Romance's "Vampires Will Never Hurt You". Shoutout to @Cursed_Me for recommending me this line for the title *:) Check out their work, everyone~ both of them are already looking so good (I'm hyped (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) )
> 
> Enjoy the chapter~

Whether it’s luck or misfortune, Sungjin doesn’t really know.

It’s almost lunch period by the time he’s dismissed from the research lab, notebook under his left arm as he mindlessly wanders towards the elevator. Today the lab had been mostly empty, but Sungjin, as always, hadn’t asked about it. He’s learned to keep his opinions to himself, given the scientists are usually under enough pressure as it is, and the military soldiers don’t allow much conversation in the first place. Not to mention the head of the lab, who Sungjin knows to be famous for his bad temper.

In order to reach the elevator, he has to pass by the communal area of the bunker, which, coincidentally, is also where the main door is located. That information is partly useless, except it isn’t, because the door is open today, meaning a group of soldiers have gone out to check the perimeter around the bunker. It’s happened another three times since they’ve been living – or rather, _surviving_ – in the bunker.

However, after said door, there’s a big staircase, which leads to the surface. What’s unusual about this setup isn’t the fact the main door is open, so much as the fact there’s light coming from the top of the staircase. People have started gathering around it, no doubt curious about what’s going on.

Sungjin’s frown deepens - if there’s light, it means the military have left the outer door open as well. Why they would do that, he has no idea.

Then, he hears the screams.

Sungjin halts in place, freezing for a second as a bloody corpse is thrown down the staircase - it’s a military soldier, green uniform turned red and ripped apart like an old piece of cloth.

He looks around - there’re probably more than 5.000 people in this area alone, and the emergency alarm still hasn’t gone off.

A shrilling screech comes from the main entrance, and that’s about when Sungjin coerces his body to move - _they’re here_.

He runs towards the elevator, and just as he’s about to get in, he’s pushed back by a swarm of people equally panicking. He needs to find a way to get to the fourth floor – to get to Wonpil and Dowoon.

Forcing himself to think, he tries to control his breathing – no one has turned the alarm on yet, he should focus on doing that first.

He searches the room, desperately looking for the red sign, and once he spots it, he bolts. Halfway there, Sungjin looks behind his back and gasps – there’re hundreds of them, swarming into the bunker, piling up by the door as they all attempt to get in at the same time. People are screaming and dying and turning everywhere he looks, so he looks away.

He smashes the glass of the alarm with his elbow and punches the alarm, hissing in pain as remaining pieces of glass leave cuts across his knuckles, but he doesn’t mind it.

_I need to get to Wonpil and Dowoon_ , is all he’s thinking.

Suddenly, flashes of a conversation he’d had with a research scientist come back to him, about every floor having its own emergency exits. He hopes they can find one, as he runs down the stairs with difficulty, finding himself pushing against the current of people wanting to go up.

There’re too many people – he can’t see if Wonpil or Dowoon are amongst them.

“Wonpil! Dowoon!” He calls in vain, the sound of his voice drowning amongst the terrified screams of people trying to save their own lives.

Someone pulls him back by the arm – Sooah, a hematologist he’d been working for.

“Sungjin-ah! Where are you going?” She asks, screaming in order to be heard. She looks terrified, but something about the look on her face seems off. “We need to leave!”

It doesn’t take long for Sungjin to connect the dots.

“How did this happen?” He narrows his eyes at her. “Sooah, _how_ did this happen?”

“I… They were starting to get impatient—We had no choice—” Sooah gasps as a person who’d been running up the stairs crashes against her, pushing her body against the handrail and forcing all the air out of her lungs. Sungjin is too angry to care.

“You tested on living ones?” He asks. “Were those soldiers going out to _capture_ living ones?” The silence is an answer in itself.

Sungjin doesn’t know what to do – he’s been working with the research department for almost two months now, and for all they might act impulsively, he’d never thought they’d go this far.

“Sungjin…” She calls, pulling on his arm. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t tell them anything, you know how they are. But they have a plan for us. Come with us. We’ll get to another bunker safely and—” Sungjin cuts her off by pulling his arm back from her hold.

“I need to go get my friends.” He states, hoping his voice sounds as determined as he feels. “Good luck to you.”

“Sungjin—” He hears no more of her words, as he dives back into the never-ending ocean of people running up.

He’s practically spat into the fourth floor, falling to his knees as he tries to calm his breathing, but it gets caught in his throat the moment a new wave of screams hits him.

In a second, he jolts his head up to face the reality in front of him. Kids of all ages running around, screaming and crying. Adults too, mostly teachers and parents trying to find their kids in the midst of the chaos. There’re toys splattered all over the floor, some of them broken, others left abandoned.

Sungjin starts back from the approaching threat, panicking as he notices a small sized zombie – a child? – is running towards him, with a murderous look on his face. His breath hitches, as he prepares himself for what he has to do, if he wants to survive.

Feeling his eyes watering, he stands up and— there’s an abandoned car toy, about the size of his head, a foot or so away from him. Sungjin feels his whole body tremble as he picks it up.

The kid jumps at him and Sungjin screams as he hits the hard-plastic toy against the zombie’s head, making him fall to the ground and start convulsing.

The yellow plastic, now dented and stained in vivid red, falls from his hands as he forces himself to watch – watch what he’s done, stare at the consequences of his actions, as glassy eyes stare back at him, lifeless.

“Hyung!”

Sungjin turns abruptly, at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Wonpil!” He shouts back, running toward the younger. He forgets his hatred for skin-ship for a second, as they throw themselves into each other’s arms. Sungjin inspects the younger for wounds, and sighs in relief when he finds none. But then—“Where’s Dowoon?”

Wonpil chokes, a sound akin to a sob getting stuck in the back of his throat.

“I-I don’t know. I told him to take some of the kids back to the classroom earlier.” His eyes portray his despair. “Hy-Hyung, what if he—”

“No.” Sungjin stops him. “Come on, let’s go find him and then let’s get out of here.” He says, pulling Wonpil by the wrist, only for the younger to pull back.

“Where?” He asks, the tears in his eyes making them look even shinier than usual. “Where will we go?”

Sungjin doesn’t know. Right now, he’s only thinking about surviving, and that means _running_.

“We’ll figure that out once we get Dowoon.” He answers, attempting to move again.

“Sungjin wait!”

“What?” The older asks, exasperation clear in his voice.

“The kids... let’s save everyone, please. I can’t leave them.”

It’s then Sungjin notices the small flock of children, trailing fearfully behind Wonpil. Sungjin’s mind is made in less than a second.

“Let’s save everyone we can.” He agrees.

They run, slower so the kids can keep up, Sungjin goes in front and Wonpil tails after the kids in the back. There aren’t many zombies around, most of them probably coming from the elevator, so they manage to bypass the bigger area of the floor relatively easily. Sungjin stops in his tracks, a couple of kids colliding with his legs, as he sees the blue sign – an exit.

“There!” He shouts, pointing at the sign of the wall. Underneath it, there’s what looks like an electricity panel.

“What’s that?” Wonpil asks, gesturing for the kids to move closer to them both.

“Emergency exit. We’ll have to use it, and get out of here.” Sungjin explains. Wonpil pales, his eyes grow impossibly big.

“Outside? But hyung, that’s—”

“Our only shot. Wonpil, we can’t stay here, the other floors are under attack too. Soon, they’ll get here and we’ll die. We _have_ to go outside.”

The younger gulps down, nodding his head once.

“Okay.” He seems to be telling himself that. “Okay.” He repeats. “We need to get Dowoonie, and then we can go.”

Sungjin shakes his head.

“We can’t all go.” He stops Wonpil. “I’ll go get Dowoon, you open that door and take the kids out.”

“What? No!” The younger protests. “You can’t. Hyung, let me come along—”

“Wonpil. Listen to me. We don’t have time for this. These children trust you to keep them safe. They trust you, Wonpil, no one else. You take them and keep the promise you made to their parents, that you’ll keep them safe. You hear me?”

Sungjin can tell Wonpil is pressing his lips together so he doesn’t cry, but a tear still rolls down his cheek as he nods.

“I’ll meet you outside.” He says. “But if I don’t—”

“I’ll meet you outside.” Wonpil cuts him off, eyebrows furrowed in determination. The older smiles a little, watching as Wonpil urges the kids to follow him.

Sungjin turns back, facing the horrifying scenario of death once more, and he hopes – God, he hopes – Dowoon is alright.

He rushes back to Wonpil’s classroom, telling everyone he finds along the way about the exit. He barges the classroom door open, and five pairs of glassy eyes turn to him. Panicking, he shuts the door closed again, and keeps running. There were no kids inside the room, which means Dowoon took them away – to where exactly, Sungjin doesn’t know, but he keeps looking, shutting door after door, until he decides to take a look elsewhere.

He finds Dowoon by the entrance of a playground, face wet with tears and blood as he tries to fight off an adult zombie. Not far from him, a group of four kids are huddled up against the half-wall surrounding the playground, shaking as they scream for their teacher.

Sungjin’s instincts kick in as he runs towards the younger, clenching his hand into a fist and using his run as balance for punching the zombie on the side of the head, which makes it stumble away from Dowoon.

The younger's eyes widen when he sees Sungjin, and he looks like he’s about to faint at any moment. Sungjin can’t have him pass out right now. He pushes Dowoon back and peers into the playground, looking for something – anything – he can use to fight the current threat. There’re a few toys close by, but nothing he can use to— Sungjin takes a deep breath. He turns back to the zombie, who is already regaining focus, and decides he’ll have to use his hands.

“Wait!” Dowoon tries to stop him, but Sungjin is already lunging at the zombie, punching him on the nose, then on the stomach, on the side of the head – he pictures the man who’d once broken Wonpil’s heart, and it makes this a little less horrifying.

Dowoon comes up behind the zombie and holds his arms back, so he can’t fight back, but the zombie is too strong.

“We need to push him down!” Sungjin yells, kicking at the zombie’s legs. Dowoon makes an acknowledging sound, and kicks the back of his knees, making the zombie fall to the ground.

The zombie doesn’t seem to feel pain at all, but being restrained does slow him down. Slows him down enough for Sungjin to grab the back of his head and—he turns to the kids. “Look away!” He says, but they’re too scared to move. “Dowoon, the kids.” He warns, and the younger nods, placing himself between them and the zombie as Sungjin bashes his head against the half-wall. The zombie screeches, and Sungjin does it again, harder, wincing as blood splatters in every direction, hitting his and Dowoon’s faces, their clothes and the wall.

They drop the spasming corpse to the floor, trembling along with it as they watch him die.

“Dowoon.” Sungjin calls. “Are you okay?” Dowoon’s eyes are trained on the zombie’s corpse, so Sungjin shakes his shoulders. “Dowoon?”

The younger opens his mouth, but no sound comes out.

“Just tell me if you’re hurt.” He pleads, and Dowoon finally shakes his head. “Okay, then we need to go. Wonpil is waiting for us with the other kids—” At that, Dowoon’s head snaps towards Sungjin, but he’s not looking at him. He’s—

“Seonsaeng-nim!”

Dowoon’s entire stance wavers as the little girl’s voice erupts from inside the playground. Sungjin frowns – why is she there? Dowoon makes to run, but Sungjin stops him – the little girl is being cornered by five zombies. They can’t save her. They’d never stand a chance – it took the two of them to stop one adult zombie.

“Jihoo!” Dowoon yells back, trying to free himself from Sungjin’s hold.

“You can’t save her, Dowoon. There’re too many.” The older reasons, even though it hurts to do so. He gestures for the group of kids near them to follow, which they do, albeit terrified and crying.

“No! Let go of me! Jihoo!” He keeps screaming. “Jihoo-ya, _run_!” Dowoon squirms and struggles as Sungjin pulls him back and away from the little girl. He can hear her yell back, and he fights off the tears filling his eyes as he keeps pulling Dowoon along. The younger screams and punches at Sungjin’s arms, still trying to go save her even as the zombies get closer to her.

“I’m sorry…” Sungjin whispers, when they can no longer see nor hear the little girl. Dowoon is shaking so hard Sungjin fears he might be collapsing, but once he takes a look at his face, he realizes the younger isn’t collapsing, he’s sobbing, crying his eyes out. “I’m sorry, Dowoon.”

Outside the bunker, Wonpil is currently checking the kids for any wounds, sighing in relief every time he confirms they’re all okay – physically, at least. He’d called a few more children and some parents who’d been trying to escape, urging everyone to get out too. For now, he’s counted eight kids, five teenagers, and nine adults. Wonpil takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and wishing Sungjin and Dowoon would just _get here already_.

“Seonsaeng-nim, look!” Seungmin, one of his kids, yells, pointing at the door. Wonpil’s head jolts in the same direction, and he almost cries when he sees them. His eyes widen when he notices the four kids following them, and he runs for them, falling to his knees as the kids throw themselves in his arms.

“Oh my God.” He whispers, hugging each of them tightly. “Are you hurt? Let me see, oh God.” Wonpil untangles the children from him, quickly checking them for any wounds, but thankfully, they’re okay. He looks up at Sungjin and Dowoon, and furrows his eyebrows when he sees the look on Sungjin’s face. “Guys, can you go over there for a second, please? I’ll be right there, okay? Your friends are already waiting for you.” He tells the kids, who nod and follow his instructions, joining the others, who’re sitting under the shadow of a big tree.

Wonpil gets back up to his feet, and finally looks at his friends. Dowoon has an arm around Sungjin’s shoulders, and he doesn’t react in the slightest at Wonpil’s presence. When he looks at the older, Sungjin only shakes his head. Wonpil nods, a silent message for him to let Wonpil take Dowoon instead, and the older concedes.

“Jihoo.” Sungjin whispers the name close to Wonpil’s ear, so Dowoon won’t listen, but maybe he still gets it, by the way Wonpil’s posture falters.

Once Sungjin removes Dowoon’s arm from around his shoulders, the younger practically falls limp into Wonpil, shaking and crying.

“Dowoon-ah…” Wonpil calls, voice as gentle as he can, rubbing the low of his back with a hand. Dowoon’s frown deepens, but he doesn’t reply. Instead, something in his eyes shifts, and he pushes Wonpil away, stumbling sideways and regaining his balance by placing a hand on the wall of the bunker.

Wonpil’s chest clenches, but he can’t blame Dowoon for it. Right now, all he really wants is for all of them to get to a safe place, alive.

“Dowoonie, please come with us.” He tries again, choking up as Dowoon doesn’t make a single move. “Please, c-come with me…”

When the younger looks back up, his face is almost dry and the tears in his eyes are gone. He doesn’t reply to Wonpil, doesn’t even look at him, just stands there, emotionless. Wonpil wants to reach out – hold his hand, or maybe hug him, and just tell him, just _tell him_ , that it’s not his fault. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t, because right now, Dowoon can’t bear to hear it, and he decides the best he can do right now, is to allow Dowoon the choice of how and when to let anyone in again.

Wonpil forces himself to move back, to give him space, and he turns back, feeling his heart break, for himself and for Dowoon.

He finds Sungjin talking to a few adults, and takes another deep breath before moving closer. He needs to be strong – for the parents and the children too.

“—we can go to?” He slides into the conversation as the older finishes his question. Wonpil had been thinking about where they would go to as well.

“Shouldn’t we try to get to another bunker?” He suggests, making the five of them turn to him. “I know it’s a long shot, but it should be the safest place to go. There should be other bunkers towards Seoul, right? And even if we don’t get to one right away, we could always stay at some abandoned house or inn.”

The two parents he recognizes, Mr. and Mrs. Kim, nod at him, through their own tears. Wonpil wasn’t their son’s teacher, but he’d seen the couple around his kindergarten a few times before. He reaches out his hands for them to take, and they hold onto them tight.

“Our baby…” Mrs. Kim cries, hiding her face on her husband’s chest. Wonpil feels for them, and he feels for himself too. To him, his students are like his kids, and the thought that now, some of them— Wonpil shuts his eyes tightly, reminds himself _not now_.

Sungjin places a hand on his shoulder, a quiet way of comforting him, and Wonpil forces out a small smile.

“Let’s get out of here first. When we get to a safer place, we can allow ourselves to think. But right now, we need to stay strong.” Sungjin says. Wonpil nods – he agrees with the older, even if he’s barely holding his own tears in. “We need to find a way of getting the kids to work with us, so we try not to be seen.”

“Leave that to me.” Wonpil volunteers, clearing his throat before continuing. “I’ll take care of them.”

“Okay.” Sungjin concedes, turning to face the others. “As for us, we should put the safety of the children above our own, but let’s try to survive.”

The path is thankfully free of zombies – Wonpil wonders if more people had managed to survive and escape from IN-7, but they don’t see anyone, and the knot forming in his throat has him shove that thought to the back of his mind. He keeps looking around, always fearing they might appear out of nowhere, just like they had before.

They come up with a sort of defense formation, where the kids and teens would be surrounded by adults, so they’d be safer. Wonpil had talked to the younger children, telling them this was all a game, and that they didn’t have to be scared. They’d bought it, even though he could tell they still had many questions, but at least for now, they’re running along with the plan, hand in hand with each other. The teenagers look positively mortified, but they’re doing their best to keep a strong façade, which Wonpil has the utmost respect for.

The streets themselves look disturbingly empty – with abandoned everything lying around, from debris, to cars, to _bodies_. There aren’t even animals around, safe for the crows Wonpil had forced himself to look away from. It smells terrible, a mix of gasoline, smoke, and deterioration, which Wonpil really doesn’t want to know the source of.

Thirty minutes later, after running almost non-stop, they decide to take a rest. They’ve already reached Bucheon, but there haven’t been any signs of a bunker yet. Instead, they decide to look for a house or motel they can use to rest in for a while. They end up walking into a small three-story inn, shoved into a corner of a street, which is more than enough for all of them. The windows are all short, and placed high up on the walls, meaning they can’t be seen from the inside of the building.

As soon as they’re all inside, and after making sure the building is, in fact, empty, Wonpil takes the younger kids to the second floor, so he can try to keep them entertained. There’re about ten small bedrooms in the whole building, a kitchen and canteen, and a few shared bathrooms.

Sungjin and a few other adults start barricading the door, covering every piece of glass that could possibly expose them. They go as far as to push one of the main entrance counters against it, just to be safe.

Mr. and Mrs. Kim come up after some time, telling Wonpil to go wash up, and they’ll watch the kids for now. Wonpil can’t thank them enough – he still hasn’t thought about anything, still hasn’t stopped for a minute.

He uses the bathroom of the same floor, wasting no time in washing his hands and face. He goes to drink water, but once he places his hands under it, the water turns brownish. There must have been a leak, he thinks, which is just what they needed. He should tell someone about it, he decides, walking out the bathroom and moving towards the stairs.

Dowoon is sitting down on the bottom of the staircase, knees pulled up to his chest and face hidden in between. Wonpil spots him from the top of the stairs, and tries not to startle the other with his steps as he approaches him.

He reaches a hand out to the younger’s shoulder, but stops a second away from touching him – he’s not sure that it’s alright, not sure Dowoon can allow anyone to get close yet.

The younger must feel his presence, because he looks up, eyes shiny with tears.

Wonpil chokes up at sight of such a pained expression on Dowoon’s face, and he too, sinks down next to him, but not close enough that they’re touching. Still, he feels it when Dowoon’s shoulders start shaking (or were they his own?).

They cry together in an agonizing silence, for a long time. Wonpil cries for the children he lost, for the work colleagues he watched dying, for the people he couldn’t save. He cries for Dowoon, for what he’s been put through and all the suffering and death around him. And he cries for himself too, for his own pain and hurting.

The two of them stay like that for what feels like hours, sobbing quietly, wanting to comfort each other but not knowing how.

When Wonpil wakes up, his nose feels itchy, and he quickly realizes why. His head is resting on top of Dowoon’s, and the younger’s rests on his shoulder. We fell asleep, he concludes, trying not to move so Dowoon doesn’t wake up. Wonpil feels strangely warm, the sudden weight of something covering them registering in his mind – someone had placed a blanket over them. He doesn’t have to think much to figure out who.

Dowoon moves then, taking in a sharper breath – he’s awake.

“Sorry.” The younger says, voice hoarse from screaming and crying. Wonpil knows he’s not apologizing for falling asleep on him.

“I’m sorry.” Wonpil reciprocates, and their shoulders tremble together, but this time, Dowoon lets his head stay on Wonpil’s shoulder and the older wraps his arms around his middle. He can’t help it, he needs Dowoon to know – that he’s here, that he isn’t alone.

Dowoon chokes on a sob.

“I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t—” He cuts himself off, unable to say Jihoo’s name out loud. Maybe Miss Hwang was right, maybe he feels guilty. He _knows_ he feels guilty.

“But you tried, Dowoonie.” Wonpil says, “You did the best you could—”

“Did I? Did I really try?” He cuts him off, biting on his tongue to try to stop sobbing. He tastes blood – it tastes bitter and awful and like everything he deserves.

“Out of 26, we saved 12.” Wonpil says, hiccupping as he wipes his nose with the back of an arm, while the other is still around the younger, rubbing small circles on the low of his back. Dowoon’s breath is shaky – there he goes again, only thinking of his own pain and never Wonpil’s too. “I don’t know if they survived. D-Don’t know whether I tried hard enough to save everyone—”

“You did.” Dowoon stops him. He can’t bear for Wonpil to speak like this – can’t bear the thought of Wonpil hating himself like he does.

“So did you.” The older presses. He stops his motions on Dowoon’s back. “You can’t save everyone.”

“I can’t save _anyone_.” He corrects bitterly. Why won’t his tears stop falling?

“That’s not true. Dowoon, please tell me you don’t mean that.”

Dowoon rests his forehead against the older’s shoulder and stays quiet, the only sounds coming from him being the occasional sobs he can’t quite hold back.

“Dowoonie...” Wonpil brings the hand on his back up to his hair, and Dowoon wishes he wouldn’t – wishes he could be worthy of this, of him, and knows he isn’t.

“It hurts...” He chokes out. It hurts so much – everything, every breath, every tear, every single time he closes his eyes, it _hurts_.

Wonpil sucks in a breath.

“I know, I know it hurts.” He whispers against Dowoon’s hair.

“Hyung, how do I make it stop?” Dowoon knows Wonpil doesn’t have an answer, but he feels so desperate he can’t help but to ask. “I just want it to stop hurting.”

“I know.” He pulls Dowoon closer, hugs him tighter, like he’s scared he might disappear if he lets go. Dowoon is scared he might, too. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” He asks.

The answer Wonpil gives him punches Dowoon right across the chest.

“I don’t know how to make you feel better.”

Dowoon’s arms finally move, hugging Wonpil back, holding him as tightly as the older is holding him.

“You do.” He promises, feels one last tear fall down onto Wonpil’s shirt. “You are.”

The first night they spend at the inn is a mess. They barely know each other and have no idea what to do, or who should do what.

There’re suitcases in some of the rooms, left abandoned presumably because of the outbreak. They end up changing their old clothes for these ones, since they're actually clean. There’s only one suitcase with children’s clothes, so they only manage to hand out clean ones to the kids who'd gotten their clothes dirty with blood or dust stains.

The kitchen, thankfully, has some food left – they manage to find a few cans of food which aren’t spoilt, and they split them evenly, if leaving a bit more for the kids. There’s no potable water, according to what Wonpil had told them, which is one of their more pressing issues – something they decide to leave for the next day.

It doesn’t take a lot to read everyone’s expressions. They’re all tired and traumatized. Sleep, Sungjin suggests, is probably what they’re all lacking the most.

Dowoon’s back cracks loudly when he lies down, for what feels like the first time in years, on a soft mattress – on an actual _bed_. He can’t sleep, but at least his back isn’t hurting a lot.

The next day, when Wonpil and Mrs. Kim take the children into another room, they finally talk about how they should move from now on.

There’s an unspoken vote, an agreement if you will, that Sungjin is the person best suited to be in charge – the most educated and collected one, out of them. Dowoon eyes the older with caution, and knows he doesn’t want to lead them. Still, Sungjin accepts the position, probably because he can tell no one else would want to either.

“I’ve been thinking this past night,” The older starts. “And I’m not sure it’s safe to try to find a bunker. At least not for now.” He says. Dowoon frowns, but stays quiet, simply listening as the olders talk.

“Why not? We’ve come this far. There should be a bunker nearby.” A man speaks up. He must be in his young thirties, judging by his looks.

“I know that, but don’t you think it’s more likely there’ll be… infected people, closer to the bunkers?”

“Just call them zombies.” A lady Dowoon isn’t able to deduct the age of speaks up. “It’s what they are.”

Dowoon grips his hand into a fist. Breathe, he tells himself, just breathe. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against the wall of the room they’re currently in, a kind of communal space by the end of the corridor in the first floor. Dowoon is standing so the older people can sit.

“I think right now, we should worry about more pressing matters, like getting water.” Sungjin inputs, clearly the only one in the room who has a clue, in Dowoon’s opinion.

“And how would we do that? The pipes are clogged, and the water in the kitchen stinks.” The same man from before asks.

Sungjin sighs, and brings a hand to run over his head.

“You’re probably not going to like my idea.”

“Probably not, but if it’s the only one we’ll get, it’s still better than doing nothing.” Mr. Kim says – finally someone Dowoon knows the name of, after listening to a conversation between Wonpil and the Kim couple. Sungjin inches himself forward on his seat, and looks up to face them.

“I was thinking we could get water from a supermarket. I spotted one when we were making our way here. It’s close. We could go in pairs, I know it’s dangerous, but I’ll go, and if anyone—”

“I’ll go too.” Dowoon interrupts. Sungjin widens his eyes at him.

“Dowoon-ah, no, you should stay. The kids—”

“They have Wonpil.” Dowoon shrugs. He doesn’t know when he became this numb to his own safety, but right now, he deems it useful.

“Alright, looks like we have two volunteers.” The middle-aged lady concludes. “What then? You’ll go out every time we need water? And food? How long are we going to live like this?”

“I… don’t know. I’m still thinking about it.” Sungjin replies. “In the meantime, we should keep busy. Wonpil and Mrs. Kim shouldn’t be the only ones looking out for the children. We can help, even in other ways, be it with cleaning around or cooking. Whatever you want, we should hand out tasks.”

And that’s how Dowoon ends up staying in charge of cleaning around. Sungjin had frowned when he chose cleaning over taking care of the kids, but Dowoon can’t do it – he can barely look a kid in the eyes and not see _her_.

Sungjin tells him about his plan to get supplies, that they should try to be quick, get what they need and come back without any stops, while always keeping an eye out for possible threats.

There’re no real weapons in the motel, besides kitchen knives and a few wrought-iron fireplace accessories. Dowoon takes an iron bar with himself, while Sungjin opts for a knife.

“Do you really have to?” Wonpil asks as they stand behind the front door, pulling on both their sleeves.

“We do, Wonpil. You know we do.” Sungjin answers, bringing his arm away from Wonpil’s hold. Wonpil takes his free hand and grabs Dowoon’s.

“Please be careful.” He pleads, “Please.”

Dowoon nods, tries not to stare at the older, and fails.

“We’ll be back in a while.” He says at last, before pulling away. “Don’t forget to push the counter against the door after we leave.”

The abandoned state of the streets makes it difficult for the two of them to move around with stealth. Dowoon wordlessly follows after Sungjin, trusting the other to take them to the supermarket.

It still takes them about ten minutes to make it there, never once stopping for a breather as they ran through the empty streets.

“Dowoon-ah, look.” He points towards the building, and the younger nods as a reply. “Come on, let’s be quick.”

As soon as Wonpil hears steps, he’s on his feet, calling Mr. Kim to help him move the counter, so he can open the door. Dowoon and Sungjin look tired and out of breath, but other than that, they seem to be fine.

Wonpil almost cries when he sees them, throwing himself on their arms and not caring about how they drop the plastic bottles of water on the floor.

Sungjin shrinks away from the hug, making Wonpil snort.

“Sorry.” He apologizes, letting go of them. “Did you manage to bring back a lot of stuff?”

Sungjin raises an eyebrow.

“We did. You managed to drop them all over the floor, though.”

Wonpil is quick to squat down to collect the bottles and food cans he’d made the two of them drop.

“I’ll help you get them to the kitchen. We should call everyone to drink water.” He suggests.

“I’ll do that.” Sungjin volunteers, maybe a bit too quickly. “Dowoon-ah, can you help Pil take the food to the kitchen?”

“Of course, hyung.” The younger replies, crouching down in front of Wonpil.

A minute later, it’s just the two of them, silently collecting bottles and cans of food. Wonpil moves to grab the last can, but his hand lands on Dowoon’s instead.

“Oh.” He voices, trying not to think of how much bigger the younger’s hand is. “Your hand is cold.” He comments, and Dowoon pries his hand from under Wonpil’s.

“Sorry.” When the older looks up, Dowoon’s ears have turned red – a sight he hasn’t seen in what feels like an eternity. Yet, Dowoon hasn’t looked at him today. Not even once.

“Dowoonie, I—” He has no time to even begin a sentence, before the younger cuts him off by holding up a colorful plastic bag to his face. “What’s this?” He asks. Dowoon places the bag on the floor, still blushing and most definitely not looking at him. Wonpil frowns, but decides to look at the bag first. It’s— he almost chokes, a sudden urge to cry taking over him. “Dowoon…”

The younger shrugs, blinking at the floor in what Wonpil is finally recognizing as an attempt to keep from crying, too. He grips the candy bag closer to himself.

“Thank you. I’ll tell the kids you brought this for—”

“No!” Dowoon interrupts, finally looking up. “I—please, don’t tell them. I can’t— they’ll ask why I’m not there, but I _can’t_ , hyung, please…”

“Okay okay.” Wonpil concedes easily, hoping it calms the younger a bit. “I won’t tell them it was you. I promise. Okay?”

Dowoon only nods.

“How about we go put this stuff in the kitchen, like we should be doing?” Wonpil suggests, trying to lighten the mood. Dowoon almost sighs in relief, visibly relaxing.

“Let’s do that.”

Sungjin returns with most of their group not too long after Wonpil and Dowoon have managed to place everything on one of the kitchen counters. Looking at the total amount of food and water they have, Dowoon thinks it can last them probably two days. After that, they’ll most likely need to get more supplies, if they can’t find a bunker in the meantime.

It’s when Mrs. Kim shows up, bringing the kids with her, that Dowoon begins fidgeting, his poor water bottle ending up squeezed. Wonpil must notice, because he takes the empty bottle from Dowoon and replaces it with his hand.

“Come with me.” He says, and Dowoon follows.

The older leads him upstairs without a word, still holding onto his hand.

“Where are we going?” Dowoon asks, when they reach the third floor. Wonpil looks back and sends him a smile.

“You’ll see.”

There’s a poorly kept door by the end of the corridor, which reveals a new set of stairs. Wonpil’s smile brightens once he meets the younger’s surprised gaze.

The staircase leads to the rooftop, a small squared-shaped area, devoid of furniture, but almost completely filled with **HVAC units**.

“I found this today, while you and Sungjin were out.” He explains, even before the younger asks. Wonpil pulls him along, walking around the box-like machines until he reaches an especially big one, close to the edge of the rooftop. “The sun is about to set.” He says, squinting his eyes when he looks directly into the light. “Help me up.”

Dowoon is glad Wonpil has his back turned to him, so he doesn’t see him flush red as he places his hands on the older’s waist and holds him up until he manages to climb onto the unit. Once Wonpil is safely sat, Dowoon puts his hands on top of the machine and jumps, using his strength to climb up. Wonpil raises an eyebrow at him, an almost teasing grin on his face.

Dowoon frowns.

“What?” He asks, clapping the dust and small rocks away from his palms.

“Nothing.” The older replies, shrugging. “Mn, look at that.” He points forwards, and Dowoon finally sees what Wonpil means.

The white buildings in front of them are colored in a warm shade of orange and red – the colors, for once, looking peaceful instead of terrifying. The sun is showing in the middle of two big angry clouds, as if breaking them apart from a fight, and calming everything around it.

“Isn’t it pretty?” Wonpil’s voice jolts Dowoon from his trance, and his eyes fall on the older. The sunlight enhances Wonpil’s features, turning his skin into gold and his eyes into stars.

“Yeah, beautiful…” He agrees at last, forcing himself to look away.

Wonpil sighs, inching himself towards Dowoon, and making the younger’s gaze return to him.

“I wish we could just stay here.” He confesses quietly.

“I know…” _Me too_ , he thinks. Something inside his chest tightens, and he wants it to stop. “We have to go back, what about the kids—”

“Mrs. Kim is watching over them.” Wonpil cuts in, turning his head so their eyes meet. “Right now, I just want to be with you.”

Dowoon is taken aback by how straightforward Wonpil is, but he doesn’t contradict him – he wants the same. He goes to answer, worried Wonpil might take his silence as a call for him to stop, but then the older rests his head on Dowoon’s shoulder.

“Is this okay?” Wonpil asks. Dowoon nods, then recalls Wonpil won’t see it.

“It’s okay.” He voices, gripping one of his hands into a fist. He should stop this, whatever this feeling is. Wonpil deserves better than—

“Careful.” The older’s hands surround his fist, and Dowoon’s grip loosens instantly, as he’s caught by surprise. “You’ll hurt yourself if you do that.” Wonpil is gentle as he digs into his hand and interlaces Dowoon’s fingers with his own. “There, you can grip my hand instead.”

But Dowoon doesn’t. Instead, he brings Wonpil’s hand closer, and places a small kiss over his knuckles.

“Thank you.” He whispers against their joint hands.

He can tell this, right here, is the moment it changes for him. The moment he realizes it’s too late, he’s fallen already, and he doesn’t know how to stop it. He’s scared of what he feels, and yet Wonpil is right there, snuggled close against him, rubbing his thumb over the back of Dowoon’s hand like they’ve been doing this for forever. “Thank you.”

A few days later finds Dowoon making his way to the ground floor of the inn, cleaning tools in hand. He takes a moment to stare at the front door of the building, locked and barricaded with furniture, and remembers the time he’d brought back that bag of candy. He wonders if the kids had liked it, if it’d made them smile. Wonpil hasn’t really talked about them, probably scared Dowoon will shut him off if he does. He’s thankful for that, even though he misses every single one of them – he feels selfish for not having gone back, for avoiding them all this time.

A sigh escapes his lips and he lets his eyes fall closed. There’s no point in this.

He bursts open the door to the supply closet, not expecting someone to be inside the little division.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I—” Dowoon cuts himself off. Is that…“Sungjin-hyung?” He frowns upon noticing the older’s red eyes. “H-Hyung, are you—?”

“I’m okay. Sorry, I was just checking something.” Sungjin explains, though his voice sounds strained. “Can you just give me a second?” He asks, and Dowoon nods almost instantly.

“Yeah, of course.” He answers, before walking back out and closing the door. The cleaning supplies are promptly thrown onto the floor, left forgotten as Dowoon bolts up the stairs to the second floor. He opens every door, until finally…

“Dowoon-ah?” Wonpil furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Why are you panting?”

Dowoon takes a second to catch his breath, before muttering “Sungjin-hyung needs you.”

Wonpil doesn’t need to listen to anything more, being quick to tell Mr. Kim to please watch over the kids for a while, and following Dowoon downstairs.

They make it to the supply closet just as Sungjin is walking out, and Wonpil practically throws himself on the older’s arms. To Dowoon’s surprise, instead of flinching away, Sungjin hugs Wonpil back, and buries his face into the crook of his neck. For him to do this… Dowoon’s hands close into fists, his nails sink into the skin of his palms. He grips them harder. How could he be this blind to his friend’s suffering?

“Hyung, talk to us. Please.” Wonpil’s voice brings him back out of his thoughts, and he watches as the two of them break apart, if still holding each other.

Sungjin nods meekly, stepping back.

“Okay.”

The older leads the way to his and Wonpil’s shared bedroom, and gestures for them to take a seat on one of the two single beds. Dowoon sits down next to Wonpil, albeit keeping an arms-length distance from him.

“Won’t you sit, too?” Wonpil asks Sungjin, pointing forwards to the other bed. The older shakes his head.

“No, I… it’s better if I don’t sit down.” He replies, looking down at his own hands before continuing. “There’s something… I don’t… huh…” Dowoon furrows his eyebrows a bit. It looks like Sungjin is having trouble talking.

“Hyung, it’s okay.” He tells the older. “Whatever it is, it’s okay. We’re here. You can trust us.”

Sungjin takes a deep breath, and nods at him.

“I know. I know I can. I do trust you. It’s just, I’m not sure how to start.” He admits, finally looking up at them. His eyes are red again, like he’s holding back from crying.

Dowoon turns to Wonpil, and after a second in which they seem to silently reach an agreement, they both get up and take a step towards Sungjin, each of them holding one of his hands. They guide him to sit down on the bed and take their seats on the floor, so they can keep holding his hands.

“Start from the beginning.” Wonpil suggests, voice gentle. “We’ll listen.”

A tear rolls down the older’s cheek, and he finally tells them everything he’d been struggling to keep to himself.

“The beginning, that would be… when I was first called to work in the research department.” He says. That far back? How long has Sungjin been bottling his feelings up? Dowoon holds the older’s hand a bit tighter. “At first, they wouldn’t tell me much, it was all so secretive. They’d already been running a lot of tests, but none of them had led to any results. Then, one day, they figured something out.” Sungjin stops for a while, taking a breath. “I wasn’t supposed to know, but Sooah – the scientist I was assigned to work for – she still told me about it. After that, I was forced to keep going there, Sooah kept telling me I couldn’t back down.”

“W-What did they find?” Wonpil asks, unsure but also probably curious. Dowoon wants to know, too.

Sungjin nods. “There is a pre-stage… about the infection.”

“You mean the zombies?” Dowoon corrects. The older faces him, worry washing over his face. Dowoon shakes his head. “You can call them that. It’s what they are, after all.” He says, quoting the lady from a couple of days back. Sungjin sighs, but nods.

“About the zombies, yes.” He confirms. “They were trying to prove that once infected, they don’t immediately become irrational creatures.”

There’s a couple of seconds of silence, in which both Wonpil and Dowoon share a confused look, before Wonpil turns back to Sungjin, and asks the question they both have.

“But how…?”

“They caught one.” Dowoon and Wonpil’s eyes widen at Sungjin’s reply.

“What?!”

“They were testing on a living zombie, and they… well, they proved the theory. The further away from the head the person is infected, the longer it takes for them to become a zombie. But even then, they don’t truly become irrational, not until… they kill someone and feed…” Sungjin trails off, but Dowoon understands what he means. Not until they eat someone else’s brain.

Wonpil furrows his eyebrows, a mix of fear and confusion, as he asks:

“S-So… how did they find that, if they only had one—”

“They infected someone.” The older cuts him off. “On purpose.” He clarifies, gritting his teeth afterwards.

Dowoon can tell Sungjin feels guilty, maybe for not having stopped it, maybe for not telling them sooner. Maybe both. He wishes the older wouldn’t feel bad. It’s not his fault.

“The head of the lab was crazy.” He keeps going. “He’d been insisting for a while, that we needed to test the results on more of them. He wanted…” Sungjin shuts his eyes, taking another deep breath.

“He wanted to capture more zombies, didn’t he?” Asked Wonpil, to which Sungjin nodded.

“I was against it, but what could I say? I was simply an assistant of a researcher, and even Sooah had little power to speak. Still, I never… I never thought—”

“Sungjin-hyung.” Dowoon interrupts. “This wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”

Sungjin simply looks at them, and keeps talking.

“The break in… it happened because of the lab. I was working there. Part of the responsibility is mine.”

“No.” Dowoon denies, bringing his other hand so Sungjin’s rests in between both of his. “You were not the one who ordered them to go out. You weren’t the one who opened those doors. It’s not your fault.”

Sungjin shakes his head.

“But I did nothing to stop it—”

“Because you couldn’t do anything!” Dowoon snaps, frowning up at him. Why won’t he understand? “Like you said, what could you do or say? It wouldn’t have changed anything.” He tries to reason. Sungjin’s shoulders slump down.

“But I could’ve tried… I didn’t even try. I didn’t… and because of that, everyone… Jihoo…”

Dowoon flinches, the name taking him back to Jihoo’s final moments, screaming for help that never came. Dowoon shuts his eyes tightly, before looking the older back in his eyes.

“Jihoo’s death… was not your fault, either. There were too many zombies, and only two of us. We couldn’t have saved her.” _We couldn’t have saved her_ , he repeats to himself.

“But I didn’t even let you try.” Sungjin’s voice cracks, a new, different type of tear running down his cheek. Dowoon fights back his own tears, takes one hand to wipe away the ones which still fall, and grips Sungjin’s hand with the other.

“We would’ve died trying, Sungjin.” Dowoon realizes, the older’s tears bringing him clarity. “We would’ve died, and what would have been of the kids we did save? What of them?” He asks. Sungjin shakes his head.

“I… I don’t know.” He finally gives in. “I’m sorry, Dowoon-ah. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too. Hyung, please don’t blame yourself. You did the best you could.”

Sungjin grips Dowoon’s hand back.

“Thank you, Dowoon-ah.”

There is a crack in all three of their hearts, carved forcefully and ruthlessly, and it hurts. Every time they speak of her, it hurts. Slowly, as time goes by, it will start to heal – they will start to heal.

It’s only a few hours later, when Dowoon has gone back to his room, and Wonpil and Sungjin are about to get into their respective beds, that he remembers to ask.

“Tomorrow, are you going out for food and supplies?”

Sungjin nods, picking up the covers and sitting down on the mattress.

“Yeah, we’re running short of food and water again.” He answers. “Dowoon volunteered to go with me.” Sungjin adds, which makes Wonpil look up from his own bed. Then, the older chuckles, as he smooths over the blankets resting on the lower half of his body. “You know, the first time he asked me to let him come along, I thought he was just being careless. I thought he was acting out of desperation, with no regard for his life. But on that day, he acted as my shield. I think that, no matter what, he would have fought if needed be. I think he will be alright.”

“And you?” Wonpil asks, catching Sungjin by surprise. “Will you fight, too?” The older meets his gaze.

“I will. For you, I will fight whatever I have to.”

Wonpil lets out a sound akin to a chuckle, but his eyes aren’t smiling.

“Won’t you fight for yourself, hyung?”

Sungjin opens his mouth as if to answer, but no sound comes out of his lips. Wonpil has known the older for most of his life, and he knows how bad of a liar Sungjin is. Sungjin knows this, too, so he presses his lips into a thin-lipped smile, and tries again.

“I’m sure I will, one day. For now, let me fight for the two of you. For the people we brought with us.”

Wonpil looks at the wall in front of him, blinking his tears away.

“Okay.” He nods, offering Sungjin the most reassuring smile he can. “I believe you.”

“Tomorrow,” Wonpil starts, after a while “let me go instead.”

“Huh?” Sungjin looks over at him quickly. “No way.”

“I want to go.” Wonpil insists, determined to have his way. Sungjin sighs.

“Even so, three people is too dangerous—”

“I’ll go and you stay.” Wonpil suggests. “Please, hyung, let me go instead. I can do it, you know I can.” He insists, fisting the covers as if it would send his point across to the older. “I’ll take Dowoon, and I won’t let anything happen. I promise, I’ll—”

“Alright.” Sungjin sighs, raises both his hands in a surrender stance. “There’s no dissuading you. I trust you both. Just be careful.”

Wonpil smiles.

“Of course.”

“And no stops!” The older adds.

“Where did you get that?” Dowoon asks, pointing at the **bonguk geom sword** on the older’s hand.

“Sungjin gave it to me today, before we left. He said he found it the second time he went for supplies, in an abandoned store.”

Dowoon raises an eyebrow at the reply, a small smile appearing on his lips.

“I thought he said no stops.”

Wonpil shrugs.

“He must have seen an antique store around here. Oh look, right there.” He points to the shop of traditional martial arts equipment. The younger looks between the shop’s showcase and the sword on Wonpil’s hand.

“And you know how to use it?” Dowoon asks, eyebrows rising in disbelief.

Wonpil nods, allowing himself to feel proud of it.

“Last year, for **National Foundation Day** , teachers were asked to put up a kind of talent show, so I learned how to dance with a sword – hanbok and all.” He shrugs. “It’s not the same as actual sword fighting, but it’s something.”

Dowoon chuckles, the sound of his voice music to Wonpil’s ears.

“You really are full of surprises.”

Wonpil smiles brightly, brighter than the past couple of days.

“Look who’s talking.” He replies, bumping his shoulder against Dowoon’s.

Dowoon looks away, embarrassed. But then—

“Hyung, look!” He whispers, grabbing onto Wonpil’s sleeve and pulling him down into a squatting stance. Wonpil, not expecting this, loses balance and falls to his knees, wincing slightly when he makes contact with the concrete floor.

“What is it?” He asks, suddenly scared. Following Dowoon’s trail of sight, he sees what the younger means. _Oh god._

Dowoon is running before Wonpil can stop him.

“Dowoon-ah!” The older calls, running after him. “Wait!”

Dowoon has seen enough zombies to recognize when it isn’t one. The man barely walking, a couple hundred meters away, _isn’t_. He can’t stand not to help, can’t stand to let the person be, not when there might be a chance he can help.

The man falls to the ground, and Dowoon stops. Wonpil catches up to him in a second, holding him back by the shoulders.

“Dowoonie, wait.” He begs, panting.

“I think he’s human.” Dowoon says, though he’s starting to have his doubts. “He’s not moving now. Can we take a look?” He turns to Wonpil, who doesn’t seem very pleased with the idea, but something in his expression changes when he meets Dowoon’s eyes.

“Let’s check him for wounds.” He nods, but grabs Dowoon’s wrist the moment the younger moves. “But be careful, and if he moves, we run.” He speaks his terms.

They approach the passed-out man slowly. He’s in his twenties, from the looks of it, and he has weird-looking hair.

Dowoon crouches down next to him, carefully placing two fingers near the man’s nose.

“He’s still breathing. I think we should—”

“Dowoon-ah.” Wonpil cuts him off, pulling the younger back, until they’re standing a couple of feet away. “Look.” He points to the man’s arm, where his clothes are stained red. “He’s infected...”

Dowoon sucks in a ragged breath, and makes a choice. He breaks from Wonpil’s hold, and with both hands, rips a piece of cloth from the bottom of his shirt.

“What are you—” Wonpil stops once he understands. “Dowoonie, I’m not sure that will do anything.”

Dowoon acts like he doesn’t hear him, pulling at the man’s sleeve until it rips apart and his whole arm is exposed.

“Sungjin said… m-maybe the infection hasn’t spread a lot yet. There might be a chance.” He says, wrapping the cloth right under the man’s shoulder, making an improvised tourniquet. “I need to try, hyung. I... please just let me try.” He asks, and Wonpil nods, crouching down next to him.

“Okay.” He helps Dowoon wrap the cloth around the man’s arm, as tightly as possible. “What now?”

“We take him back with us. Maybe we can figure out some way to help him. He might not turn...” Dowoon trails off. Of course he’ll turn. He knows he will, but he’s so desperate, to just _try_ to do something good.

Wonpil sighs.

“Sungjin is going to be mad.” The younger smiles at his answer.

“So you’ll help me, then?”

Wonpil ruffles his hair.

“Always.”

They place the man’s arms over their shoulders, hoisting him up the best they can, until only his feet are dragging across the floor – they don’t realize how tall he is until then. And they take him back to their hideout, food and water left forgotten.

It takes them twice as much time to get back, what with carrying an almost six feet tall person, so it comes as no surprise to them, the way the front door swings open the moment they make it into the porch.

“What the hell took you—” Sungjin cuts himself off as he lays eyes of the man between the two of them. “Who’s that?”

“We don’t know.” Wonpil replies. “We saw him on the way to the supermarket. He was just walking and then he passed out. He has a scratch wound on his forearm, but we made him a tourniquet, and maybe we could—”

“Why would you bring him here?” The older asks, exasperation clear in his voice.

“Hyung, please.” Dowoon begs. “He hasn’t turned. We might- maybe, there’s a chance he won’t. Can’t we give him a chance?”

Sungjin looks between the three of them, trying to decide what to do.

“Where will you take him? You can’t bring him inside. What if he turns when he wakes up?”

Dowoon hadn’t thought about that. He thinks back to what Sungjin had told them just the day before, about how it all started with just one infected person, and suddenly he feels terrible for putting Sungjin in this position again, but he couldn’t help himself – he _had_ to try to save this person.

“We’ll take him upstairs, to the rooftop.” Wonpil answers, when Dowoon keeps quiet. “If he turns when he wakes up, we’ll just… throw him out?”

Sungjin sighs deeply, clearly not liking the sound of their proposal, but let’s them bring the man in anyway.

Dowoon and Wonpil drag him up the stairs, avoiding the weird looks everyone sends their way, while Sungjin rummages around for a chair and a spare bedsheet he can use to tie the man down.

Wordlessly, they sit the man on the chair, and tie him up against it, feeling bad about it, but also not able to do much more for him. Once they’re done, Wonpil sits on the ground, back against one of the many HVAC machines, while Dowoon and Sungjin simply stand, eyeing the passed-out man closely.

Dowoon frowns a bit, the features of the man’s face looking… weirdly familiar, to him.

“I think... he looks familiar.”

“You know him?” Wonpil asks, and when the younger turns to him, the older has his eyebrows raised in surprise.

Dowoon shakes his head.

“Not personally, no. But I think, if I’m not mistaken, he works with a friend of mine. Well, _worked_.” He rephrases. Wonpil’s grimace doesn’t go unnoticed, but he still sends a somewhat encouraging smile his way.

“When he wakes up you can ask him.” He suggests.

“If he’s still able to talk.” Sungjin adds. Wonpil sends the older a death glare.

Dowoon flinches, all of a sudden, when the man lets out a pained groan – a _human_ groan, at least. The three of them shift their attention to the waking man, staring cautiously and expectantly as he squints his eyes open.

A couple of seconds pass in absolute silence. Dowoon watches as the man finally opens his eyes properly, and when he sees them, his expression turns into a confused frown.

“What the fuck is going on?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, Dowoon. I'm sorry, Sungjin. I'm sorry, Wonpil. OTL Am I a terrible person? Perhaps.  
> Also, finally we'll return to Jae's POV next chapter. I'm excited to write him with SungDoPil~
> 
> Now for definitions and stuff:
> 
> HVAC unit - stands for Heating, Ventilation, and Air Conditioner unit. If you search it in Google Images I'm pretty sure you'll know what they are right away.
> 
> Bonguk Geom Sword - a traditional Korean sword. Again, if you want to know what it looks like, Google Images will help you more than I can~ it's a long straight looking sword.
> 
> National Foundation Day - a Korean holiday (in both North and South Korea, but Nk isn't very loud about it), which celebrates the legendary formation of the first Korean state of Gojoseon in 2333 BC. This date has traditionally been regarded as the date for the founding of the Korean people.
> 
> That is it for today~ Hope you enjoyed the chapter ^^ let me know your thoughts and/or if you find any mistakes~  
> Please stay safe and look out for your health~ <3


	6. Will Tomorrow Have Its Way, With The Promises Betrayed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So that’s how Jae ends up limping behind the two men, Dowoon carrying his bag and Wonpil holding his sheathed sword with his left hand, ready to draw it out at any moment. Jae follows them quietly, very subtly not staring at their linked hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi~ guess who's back after 84 years :) sorry I haven't updated in so long (TT-TT)
> 
> Today's chapter title is taken from Linkin Park's "Skin To Bone", a great song~  
> Enjoy the chapter (and prepare yourself for idiots in love :>)
> 
> TW // there're some mentions of body mutilation and a few greusome scenes, so please beware. Nothing that isn't already in the tags, but I thought maybe I should still give a heads-up.

The first thing he notices, when he comes to, is the pain – an agonizing, progressively intensifying pain – coming from his left arm. Jae groans at the feeling, slowly growing accustomed to it. The second thing he notices is that he’s sitting, and not laying down on the ground. He frowns, trying and failing to move. He’s – he tries again, but he can’t move – he’s _tied down_. What the fuck.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he pries his eyes open, and immediately closes them again, when the daylight blinds him. He takes a deep breath and attempts to open them again. This time, he watches as the world materializes around him into an unknown scenario. Jae blinks once. Then one more time, for good measure. There are three people he’s never seen before standing – well, two of them are standing, and one is sitting down on the ground – in front of him, staring at him like he’s the non-friendly version of Casper, the ghost.

Jae looks down, and sure enough, finds his arms tied down to the armrests of the chair he’s sitting on. His frown deepens as he faces the three men.

“What the fuck is going on?”

One of them – no doubt the youngest looking one – steps forward, holding both hands up, close to his chest.

“Sorry about this.” Is the first thing he says. “No amount of precaution is enough, I’m sure you understand.” He explains, but Jae is so, so, confused. Precaution? For what? Understand what?

“Why the hell am I tied to this chair? Just what are you planning to do?” Jae asks, his confusion and fear pouring out without his consent. The same guy who’d answered him before grimaces.

“I’m sorry. You have a scratch wound, and we needed to make sure you wouldn’t attack us if you woke up- y-you know… like—” Whatever he says next is nothing but a blur to Jae, who’s reality comes crashing down like a fucking tsunami wave. Precaution. Scratch wound. Attack us. Brian. Zombies. The lab. Alex. Younghyun. _Brian_.

Jae remembers now.

“Oh my God…” He breathes out, panicking as memories fill his brain. “I—but… oh God, Brian- I have to—”

“Brian?” The name makes Jae look back at the guy. “Do you mean Kang Younghyun?” He wonders, and Jae almost whimpers at the sound of his best friend’s birth name. His sight becomes blurry, and he only manages to nod. Then, suddenly, a thought – a hope, a _wish_ – flashes through his mind. The chair shakes beneath him as he snaps his head up.

“Is he here?” Jae almost screams.

“He isn’t.” A new voice speaks, and Jae meets the gaze of one of the other men – this one standing out for his hair (or rather, the lack of it). “Sorry to cut through this emotional discharge, but I need to know how long ago you were infected. You may not have a lot of time, and that tourniquet won’t be of use for long.”

Jae takes a deep breath. The baldie is right – he needs to focus. Jae shakes his head, and tries to remember exactly how much time has passed. What time even is it? Is it still the same day? How the fuck is he still conscious and not… a zombie? Jae closes his eyes – _think, Jaehyung_.

“I think it was today. A few hours ago, near midday?” He answers honestly, and his left arm twitches. “Can you untie me?” None of the three men answer vocally, but they all share the same look on their faces. Jae sighs. “Okay, that’s understandable. Can I just take a look at my arm? Did you by any chance bring—” He cuts himself off as he notices a backpack extremely similar to his own, next to the one man who’s been sitting down this whole time. “Is that my bag?”

The man finally gets up, and – he’s surprisingly small – picks up the bag.

“Yes. We thought it wouldn’t be right to leave it behind.” He confirms holding the bag up in front of Jae.

“I have stuff from my lab in there. If you can just let me have a look—”

“Wait, so _you’re_ Jae? You are, aren’t you?”

Jae frowns again, staring back at the man he assumes is the youngest.

“How do you know my name? How do you know Brian’s name?” He asks, and the black-haired man scratches the back of his head.

“I’m an old friend of Younghyun. He’s told me about a co-worker named Jae, and I guess you fit the description…” He admits, and Jae’s thrown off guard. Brian… talks about me? Jae shakes his head – this is irrelevant right now. “I’m Yoon Dowoon.” He introduces himself, probably noticing how outnumber and in disadvantage Jae is feeling. Dowoon… what a weird name.

“Park Jaehyung.” He replies, “But you already knew that.”

Jae turns to the bald man, sending him an expectant look. The man sighs but relents to his silent request.

“Name’s Park Sungjin.”

“And I’m Kim Wonpil.” The small man speaks up, making Jae almost wince at the smile he offers him. How dare he smile so brightly when Jae is literally about to die?

“So, you’re a scientist, are you?” The bald— _Sungjin_ inputs, going back to what Jae had been saying before. Jae nods.

“Yes. I used to be the head scientist at a research lab in Seoul, then I was assigned to be the head research scientist at SL-3, and now I’m here.” He explains. Sungjin frowns, clearly confused.

“SL-3?”

Jae raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah? Bunker 3 in Seoul. Ring a bell?”

“No, it does not.” Sungjin answers. “Do you even know where you are right now?”

Being held hostage at the top of a random building, Jae protests silently, but limits himself to raising his right shoulder in a shrug. Sungjin sighs and runs a hand through his nonexistent hair.

“We’re in the suburbs of Bucheon. You’re telling us you walked all the way from Seoul to here? In a few hours? While infected?”

Jae doesn’t know how that happened either. One moment he was walking out of the hospital, and the other he was falling to the ground, with no energy left in his body. Had he really walked those twenty-something kilometers? He doesn’t remember anymore. It’s probably the virus acting up. The simple thought of it makes his left arm twitch again, and he hisses as the small movement sends a wave of pain up his arm and throughout his body.

“Hyung, we need to help him.” Dowoon says, pulling on Sungjin’s sleeve. Jae almost snorts at the child-like action – almost, because he’s in too much pain to actually do so. He keeps quiet, listening in on their hushed conversation.

“Just _how_ do you think we can help him? We don’t have a cure.” Sungjin counters. That’s true, Jae silently agrees. If he were to be in the baldie’s position (he guesses he must be the one in charge), he would’ve already thrown himself out of the rooftop, no questions asked.

“Maybe he can help himself.” Another voice cuts in, and both Dowoon and Sungjin (and Jae too, for that matter) turn to look at its source. Wonpil points his hand in Jae’s direction. “You said you’re a scientist. Maybe you can work something up, right? I’m sure saving yourself is enough motivation.”

Jae blinks. “Wha—”

“I’m pretty sure there’s a lab around here. I think it’s co-joint with the pharmacy we’ve been getting our medicine from.” Wonpil continues, leaving the other three without an answer. “I could go there with you, and if that doesn’t work… well…” He grips onto the strap placed across his chest, and Jae traces it to his back, where it’s holding a sheathed sword. A sword. Jae looks up at the sky – he does snort this time, and regrets it instantly when pain shoots throughout his whole body. What the fuck is that guy doing with a _sword_ of all things? And did he just threaten to use it on Jae?

“Wonpil, wait a minute—”

“We have to try to save him, hyung.” Wonpil insists, and both the baldie and Jae send an exasperated look across the little man. Why is he so set in saving a dude he’s never met before?

“And what? You’ll go alone with him, for God knows how long, until he magically finds a cure?” Sungjin presses, clearly not liking the idea.

“I’ll go too.” Dowoon volunteers. “It was my idea to bring him here in the first place, I feel responsible for him now.”

“You know,” Jae cuts in “ _He_ is right here, listening to everything you’re saying.”

The three men turn to him, carrying slight grimaces.

“Sungjin is right. This tourniquet is not doing a great job. I can move my arm just fine, which means the blood is still flowing in and out of it. Hence, the virus is still spreading. I can _feel_ it spreading.” Jae informs. “If you point me in the direction of this lab you mentioned, I’ll just go there myself, with my stuff, and try to work something out. There’s no need to put any of you at risk just for my sake. You don’t owe me anything. If anything, I owe you.” He continues, to which Sungjin nods. However, the other two don’t seem so pleased.

“I still want to come along.” Dowoon inputs, crossing his arms over his chest. “I can help… with anything.” He justifies. It’s not like Jae doesn’t need or want any help, but he also can’t ask that of these people he’s just met. Besides, Dowoon is friends with Brian; Jae can’t bare the idea of potentially hurting someone close to him.

“I don’t think you can dissuade us, hyung.” Wonpil says, turning to Sungjin. “Dowoonie and I will take Jae to this lab, and we’ll try to help him. You should stay here with the others. They still need you.” Others? Jae frowns at the mention of more people. “Mr. and Mrs. Kim have been doing a great job with the kids-” _Kids?_ “And Yeonjun and the older teens also look up to you a lot. They’ll follow your lead.” Teens too? Jae wonders how many people are living in this building. “And we’ll come back. Either three or two of us, but we’ll come back.”

So that’s how Jae ends up limping behind the two men, Dowoon carrying his bag and Wonpil holding his sheathed sword with his left hand, ready to draw it out at any moment. Jae follows them quietly, very subtly _not_ staring at their linked hands.

Now that he’s properly aware of his surroundings, he can’t help but feel scared. The streets look empty yet full, like he’s in some kind of apocalyptical VR game, and he hates it. He hates it more because Brian isn’t here. Thinking of his best friend makes Jae’s heart hurt. He takes his right hand to his chest and grips his shirt, as if gripping his own heart. _I’m sorry…_

“Hey, are you okay?” Jae looks up suddenly, not expecting the other two to be watching him. Wonpil has an eyebrow raised and his left-hand twitches slightly, gripping the sword tighter once Jae looks at it.

“I’m fine.” Jae replies. “Are we close to this lab you mentioned yet, or what?” He asks, hoping the other will let it go. Wonpil eyes him, like he knows exactly what Jae’s thinking – that’s impossible, Jae knows that, but it still leaves him feeling uneasy – and turns back around.

“It’s around the corner.”

Jae nods, taking exactly one more step, before the three of them halt in their tracks, eyes widening at the sight around said corner.

The zombie stands about twenty meters from them, facing the other way – it hasn’t seen them yet. Jae looks around and finds the pharmacy sign, right above where the zombie is wobbling from side to side.

Jae touches Dowoon’s shoulder, making the younger flinch. Both him and Wonpil send pensive looks to Jae. He knows the moment he speaks, the zombie will hear them, and so he mouths: _We need to run, now._ They both nod, and as fast and quietly as they can, they go back where they’d come from, hiding behind the wall on the corner of the street.

“What the hell do we do now?” Jae whispers, looking from the others to his arm, wondering how in the holy fuck he’s supposed to protect them when he’s in this state. However, he’s not the only one wondering the exact same thing.

“Dowoonie,” Wonpil starts, grabbing his wrist “you take Jaehyung to the lab and hide. We don’t know if there are more of them inside the building.” He says, but even while whispering, Jae can tell he’s not leaving any room for protest. Still, Dowoon frowns.

“What about—” Wonpil cuts him off, shaking his head.

“I’ll take care of the zombie.” He says, holding his sword up. “Trust me.” Jae looks between the two, watching as they hold a silent conversation with their eyes.

Finally, Dowoon nods.

“Okay.” He concedes. Wonpil nods too, and then turns to Jae.

“Can you run?” He asks, eyeing Jae’s form.

“I’ll try.”

“No. You’ll run.” Wonpil corrects. He might be small, but the way he holds himself makes him look bigger than all of them. Jae’s never met anyone as scary as Kim Wonpil, and he’s known him for all of half an hour.

“I’ll run.”

Wonpil goes in front of them, peeking into the other side of the street to make sure the zombie is still looking the other way – he turns back around and nods at them. Dowoon grabs Jae’s right wrist, so he can pull him along, and they wait for Wonpil to move.

Wonpil grips the sword’s handle with his right hand and walks to the middle of street. For this work, they’ll have to time everything perfectly. Dowoon’s grip on Jae’s wrist is so tight his knuckles turn white, but the older doesn’t complain.

“Hey!” Wonpil shouts, unsheathing the sword and holding the handle with both hands. Jae doesn’t see the zombie, but he does hear when it screeches loudly. “Get ready!” Wonpil screams at them, not once looking away from the zombie. Dowoon stands and pulls Jae up, sending him a look which Jae translates as: _Ready?_ Jae isn’t, but he nods. “Now!”

Jae gasps as Dowoon pulls him along, and even though it hurts like hell, he runs. The zombie spots them as it’s barely a couple of meters away from Wonpil, and the latter uses the zombie’s new found distraction to raise the sword up above his right shoulder and in a single, clean, movement, swing it right through the zombie’s neck. The sword slices through the zombie like it’s made out of cheese, coming out covered in bright red on the other side. There’s an agonizingly slow second, as the zombie’s head slides to the side, its eyes still open, frozen into a wide stare, and then the corpse falls, sending the skull rolling onto the asphalt ground. Jae looks away, swallowing down his stomach’s contents and focusing on running.

Dowoon stops a second later, as another zombie uses his body to blast though the glass door of the pharmacy. The new zombie ends up falling, rolling on the ground a couple of times before its hands slam on the floor and its head snaps up, a murderous glare on its face. Dowoon pulls Jae behind himself, and looks around in haste, grabbing a large piece of glass and charging towards the zombie, who looks ecstatic, showing its bloody teeth in a terrifying grin.

“Dowoon, don’t!” Jae screams, trying to stop him, but moving a second too late. Dowoon lets the zombie throw itself at him, using the piece of glass to stab it in the stomach. The zombie screeches, not in pain, but almost in annoyance, and pushes itself into the glass, turning them around and making Dowoon cut himself with the other edge of it. Jae moves before he can think.

Pain forgotten, he finally reaches the two of them and, noticing what the zombie is about to do, grabs his own left hand with his right one, and pulls it up in between the zombie and Dowoon, so when the zombie sinks its teeth down, it bites into Jae’s forearm and not Dowoon’s throat. Jae shouts out, feeling nothing but pain as the zombie bites harder, and blood drips down onto the ground. _It’s almost orange_ , Jae notes, and thinks for a second that maybe this isn’t that awful a way to go. He thinks it only for a second, because next thing he knows, the zombie releases him with a choked-up gasp, Wonpil’s blade cutting its skull in half, leaving a vertical wound from the top of its head to just over its mouth.

Jae stumbles back, losing the remains of strength he had in his body. The only reason he doesn’t flat out fall on his ass is because Dowoon catches him, but Jae pulls him away.

“Careful!” He breathes out. “Your hand—” He says, trying to cough out the soreness in his throat.

“Are the two of you idiots?!” Wonpil rages, still holding onto his sword, the blade now completely soaked in almost-orange blood. That, combined with the look on his face, makes Wonpil look very, _very_ , intimidating. Jae gulps, and goes to answer, but his left arm starts trembling, and he takes his right hand to the tourniquet, trying to make it tighter.

“We need to move.” Dowoon presses, ignoring his wound and pulling Jae along. Wonpil sighs and holds his sword out.

“Take this, Dowoon. I’ll handle Jaehyung. You shouldn’t touch him when you have an open wound like that.” He reasons, and Jae hums in agreement, though it comes out sounding closer to a whimper. “Hold on.” Wonpil tells him. “We’re almost there.”

Jae feels like a sack of moldy potatoes. Wonpil practically has to pull him up the stairs leading to the lab, Dowoon walking in front of them to make sure there aren’t any more zombies. The mess and noise they made outside is likely to attract more of them, but if Jae doesn’t take a look at his arm right now, he won’t make it.

The familiarity of being in a (real) lab makes him regain a bit of energy, and after Wonpil helps him sit on a bench and places his left arm on top of a counter, Jae finally takes a proper look at his over-abused arm.

The bite marks overlap the scratch ones, making an ugly and disgusting wound in the upper and outer side of his left forearm. The skin around the wound is a mix of purple, yellow and grey, and the sight of it alone repulses Jae. How the fuck is he supposed to cure _that_? Can he even do it?

“I’m not sure glaring at it will help.” Wonpil says, making Jae turn to him.

“I’m not glaring. I’m thinking.” He clarifies. Wonpil crosses his arms over his chest.

“Think harder.” He commands, pushing himself off of the counter and moving towards the door. “I’m getting medicine for Dowoon. Do you need anything?”

Jae ponders it over for a second, but he comes off empty headed. “Just painkillers and disinfectant, for now.”

Wonpil sends him a sharp nod before exiting the room, leaving him and Dowoon alone.

“I think your boyfriend doesn’t like me a lot.” Jae comments, and Dowoon chokes on air.

“He’s not—We—” Dowoon takes a deep breath. “It’s not like that.” He says after he’s calmed down. “And it’s not that he doesn’t like you. He’s just wary of you because you might, you know—huh.” Dowoon promptly shuts up. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, kiddo.” Jae assures, even though the lack of faith hurts his pride. His left-hand twitches involuntarily and he winces in pain. “So, how old are you anyway?” He asks, hoping to distract himself while Wonpil doesn’t return. Dowoon moves a bit closer, clearly interested in Jae’s wound.

“I’m 24.” He replies shortly. Jae answers the question before Dowoon can retribute it.

“27. Go ahead and call me hyung if you like. I don’t make a big deal out of it, since we don’t really use it in America.” Jae allows, and Dowoon’s eyes perk up at the mention of the foreign country.

“That’s right. You’re American, right hyung?” Jae frowns for only a moment – Dowoon is an adult, yet he talks and gestures like a child. It shouldn’t be cute, but Jae still finds it endearing.

“Korean-American.” He corrects, shooting a question of his own. “Did you always live here?”

“Yeah, I’ve never really traveled outside of Korea. I was hoping to do so, one day…” Dowoon trails off, eyes looking progressively sadder, and for some reason, Jae feels the need to protect him.

“Hey, no.” He speaks up. “What’s with this hopelessness? You’re still going to travel the world. We’ll get through this.” Jae knows he sucks at cheering people up, but the only person he ever really does this for other than like, his mom, is Brian, and whenever he’s sad Jae just hugs him and makes a stupid joke or orders take-out for the two of them to eat at his place, curled up on one side of his big couch. He doesn’t know how other humans like being cheered up.

“Thanks, hyung.” Dowoon says, but Jae knows he’s just being polite. Thankfully, Wonpil finally returns, and Jae doesn’t miss the way he looks between the two of them, before walking into the room. He drops Jae’s medicine on the counter and then turns his full attention to Dowoon, tending to the wound on his hand carefully.

Jae’s eyes land on the painkillers almost instantly and he wastes no time in taking a couple, hoping it’ll numb the pain he feels pretty much everywhere. He notices Wonpil brought along more stuff than he’d requested, but he never gets a chance to ask.

“There were elastic bands meant for sprains and minor injuries downstairs.” Wonpil explains, as Jae looks over at the black bands. “Maybe we can help you get a better tourniquet with those.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Jae nods, taking the alcohol and moving to stand behind one of the sinks.

He pops open the bottle and sets it down near the sink. He can feel his left arm, but he can’t exactly move it. A single twitch of his fingers will send a jolt of pain throughout his whole body, so he does his best to make as little movement as possible. His right hand takes hold of his left, and he pulls his arm up and into the sink, where he’s planning to soak it in alcohol. It probably won’t do much, but he needs to try and ease the spread of the wound.

“You’re shaking.” Wonpil points out, and Jae’s eyes snap towards his right hand. He’s shaking, hard. He hears Wonpil sigh, and then stepping towards him, around the counter. “I’ll help.” He volunteers.

“Thanks.” Jae breathes out, managing not to stutter. Wonpil nods once, a silent “you’re welcome”.

“What should I do?” Wonpil asks, and Jae gestures towards the bottle next to them.

“I’ll hold myself. Just, pour it over. Everywhere.” Jae instructs, holding and twisting his left hand so the outer part of his forearm is easier to get to.

“Alright.” Wonpil takes the bottle with one hand and places his other on Jae’s shoulder. “Brace yourself.”

Jae grits his teeth, barely holding in a scream as the cold liquid comes in contact with his skin. Jae shuts his eyes and grips his left hand harder, as Wonpil keeps coating his arm with alcohol. Jae’s breaths become ragged, progressively louder, and he knows he won’t be able to hold back his tears for much longer.

“Bear it. I’m almost done.” Wonpil commands, and though his voice sounds cold and unaffected, the hand gripping Jae’s shoulder sends a different message. “Almost.” He repeats, going over the exposed wounds on Jae’s arm one last time. “And… I’m done, that’s it.” He releases Jae’s shoulder the same second, as if he’s just realized how hard he’d been holding on to it, but Jae doesn’t comment. He’s more preoccupied with trying not to whimper at how much his left arm is burning.

“T-Thanks.” He says, once the burning dies down a bit. He eyes the wound again, but it doesn’t look any better – it’s clean now, but that only means Jae gets to see just how bad it is.

There are four fingers marks on the outside of his forearm, overlapped by a single, deep, bite mark, and there’s a thumb mark on the inside of his arm. All of the wounds look deeper than they actually are – maybe not the bite mark one, that one hurt like hell – but Jae guesses that’s because of the virus. The exposed flesh is a vivid red, shiny with alcohol still burning them, but the blood dripping onto the sink is an almost orange color. The skin around the wounds is a dark purple, and there’re vein-y looking black marks forming around them, up his arm. The black marks reach just above his elbow, and Jae thinks maybe he’ll turn once the marks reach his head. If the marks symbolize the spread of the virus, then if they reach his head, it’ll most likely mean the virus has reached his brain. Jae does not want to test that theory.

He looks back at the counter, fixing his eyes on the elastic bands. He needs a good tourniquet – one that’ll hold for long. Long enough for him to find a cure (or die trying).

“You’ll probably need help with this too, right?” Wonpil guesses, and points to the top of Jae’s arm. Jae nods, and tries to take a step back to the bench he’d been sitting on. Tries, and fails. Thankfully, Wonpil had probably been expecting it, because he catches Jae instantly, pushing him against the counter, so he doesn’t fall. “Woah, there. Take it slow.”

Jae manages to limp back to the bench, and he quickly inspects the bands.

“Is this latex?” He asks, frowning. Wonpil snorts.

“They were out of leather.”

“No, no, it’s good. It’ll hold.” Jae informs, then looks around. “Is there—do you see any supply—” Jae cuts himself off when he spots a lab stand, on the counter behind him. His eyes focus on the clamp attached to it. “Okay, I have an idea. But I’m gonna need help.”

Jae explains to Wonpil how to make a tourniquet which will effectively stop the blood from flowing in and out of his arm, and the latter listens closely, occasionally nodding.

“It will probably hurt.” Wonpil comments, afterwards.

“I know. But it’s necessary.”

Both of them turn to look when Dowoon clears his throat.

“Do you want me to help?” He asks, seeming genuinely concerned. Jae manages a smile.

“It’s alright, kiddo. You take care of that nasty cut on your hand.” Jae dismisses, though he’s thankful.

“Kiddo?” Wonpil asks, raising a brow.

“Dowoon is like three years younger than me. Also, he looks like baby. So, yes, kiddo.” Jae justifies, earning himself a chuckle. That’s the first time Wonpil offers him an honest smile, and Jae isn’t all that surprised it’s because of Dowoon. He still has to hold himself back from dropping his jaw at how different Wonpil looks when he’s smiling, but he refrains from commenting.

“Three years, huh? That makes you the hyung here. Sungjin’s your age though.” Wonpil notes, grabbing the elastic bands and starting to unpack them. “We’ll need scissors.”

Dowoon is out and about before either of them can protest. He does end up finding a pair of scissors pretty quickly, which Wonpil uses the cut the ankle part of an elastic sock designed for a child. Jae starts undoing the old tourniquet while Wonpil places a long piece of elastic band, the cut piece of sock and the clamp on the counter.

“Okay,” Jae says, “you know what to do.”

First, Wonpil wraps the elastic band around Jae’s arm, below his shoulder. He picks the clamp next, placing it over the band and tying it down. Jae takes a deep breath, and nods. Wonpil twists the clamp once, and Jae scrunches his face trying not to make a sound. The younger twists the clamp again, making the tourniquet tighter, and Jae can’t hold back a hiss of pain.

“Should I stop?” Wonpil asks, but Jae shakes his head.

“One more time. Then, you can stop.” He commands, griping the edge of the counter with his right hand. Wonpil sighs, but does as Jae tells him, twisting the clamp one last time, with more difficulty now that it’s so tight. Jae’s lips part in a silent scream of pain, but he’s quick to close them again, biting on the inside of his cheeks.

Wonpil doesn’t slow down, and Jae’s glad for that, even if his whole body is shaking in pain. The younger ties the clamp again, and wraps the remaining length of the elastic band around Jae’s arm, so the pressure will hold. He makes one last knot to keep everything in place, and Jae finally looks at his work.

The tourniquet is so tight, he’s already feeling prickles all the way down to his hand, a telltale that the bloodstream is getting cut. It’s a good sign, he knows, but it hurts.

Wonpil doesn’t linger for long, and instead takes the piece of elastic sock Jae’d asked him to cut and begins slipping it through Jae’s left hand. The older gasps at the touch, and Wonpil stops short of the wounds in his forearm.

“This will hurt.” He warns. Jae almost laughs at that.

“No shit.” He breathes out, before gritting his teeth and shutting his eyes as Wonpil slips the improvised band up his arm, over his open wounds. It takes some work, but Wonpil eventually manages to place the band over the tourniquet, so it’s properly secured and protected.

“Okay.” Wonpil says. “Okay. It’s over, it’s okay now.” He assures, and Jae sighs. His vision gets blurry, and it isn’t until both Wonpil and Dowoon place their hands on his back that he realizes he’s falling.

There’s a distant sound (voices?) pulling him awake, but Jae is having a hard time opening his eyes.

“… hey. Hey!”

Jae snaps his eyes open, and his sight focuses in on Wonpil and Dowoon, hovering over him with worried expressions.

“What happened?” Jae asks, voice hoarse. Dowoon and Wonpil pull him up into a seating position before answering, leaning his back against the counter.

“You blacked out.” Wonpil explains.

“Hyung, how are you feeling?” Dowoon asks, squeezing his right shoulder. Jae thinks about it for a while. His head hurts, but not as much as before. His body still feels sore, but he’s… he feels lighter, somehow. His left arm isn’t hurting anymore. Jae looks over at it, and suddenly feels like puking. The skin is looking paler than usual, almost a pale green – the wounds are still exposed and looking worse than before. Slowly, he reaches for his left arm, and pokes the inside of the forearm with his right index finger. He feels nothing.

“I’m fine.” He answers at last. “The tourniquet is working; I can’t feel nor move my left arm.”

“What will you do now?” Dowoon questions, pointing at Jae’s dead arm. “Can you cure those wounds?”

Jae shakes his head.

“I don’t know. I need to think of something, some way of taking the virus out.”

By the time the sun sets, Jae still has no idea what he’s doing. He started by going through some books he found at the lab, then the two he’d brought himself, but, predictably, he found nothing on how to cure a zombie virus. Considering the size of the lab, Jae was quite surprised to find such a big stash of chemicals. Yet, he’s still lost as to what exactly he should do.

Dowoon and Wonpil are trying to give him room to work, occasionally going to check if the cost is still zombie-free, but their owl-like presence reminds Jae of the military soldiers back at the bunker.

“So,” He begins, hoping to make some – any – kind of conversation “Where are the two of you from?”

Jae looks up after finishing the question, but frowns upon noticing how tense Dowoon has gotten. Wonpil is barely holding back a grimace. Jae sighs – _you’re an idiot, Park Jaehyung_.

“I’m from Incheon, born and raised there.” Wonpil answers. “At the time, I was working near the National University, at a kindergarten.” He continues, the new-found information catching Jae by surprise.

“Wait. You? You’re a kindergarten teacher?” He asks, just to make sure. Out of all the possible professions, a kindergarten teacher had not crossed Jae’s mind. Wonpil chuckles.

“Do I not look like one?” He points towards himself, raising both eyebrows.

“Huh.” Jae snaps his mouth shut. “Not really, no.”

“Well, to be fair, hyung. You’ve been carrying a sword this whole time, and you did cut off and through two zombie heads.” Dowoon inputs, rubbing the back of his head with his good hand. “He’s also never seen you around kids before.” The younger smiles, but something in the way he looks at Wonpil makes Jae realize he shouldn’t ask. So, he changes the topic.

“Dowoon, can I ask how you know Brian?”

The younger one’s expression lights up almost instantly, whatever he’d been thinking about before shoved into the back of his mind. Jae hopes it won’t come back to bite him in the ass later.

“Oh, sure. We used to be neighbors.” He answers, simple and straight to the point. Jae says nothing, waiting for him to go on.

“Who even is this Brian you keep talking about?” Wonpil questions, clearly feeling left out.

“He’s my best friend.” Jae and Dowoon say, at the same time, then frown and look at each other. Jae’s confused – how can Dowoon be Brian’s best friend? He’s never mentioned him before, that Jae remembers.

“Well, tell me more then.” Jae encourages, happy to learn about Brian’s “best friend”.

Dowoon tells them how he and Brian had first met – almost twenty years ago, little Kang Younghyun had just moved next door, and Dowoon had been playing outside. When Younghyun’s parents went to greet their new neighbors, Dowoon had shied away from the strangers, but something about Younghyun made it really easy for him to open up. They became friends quickly after that, became best friends after only a few months, and just a couple of years later, they were inseparable. Until they weren’t.

“What happened?” Jae asks, fully invested. Dowoon smiles, but it’s a sad expression.

“He moved away. Went to live in Canada.” The younger explains, shrugging. “It was almost exciting at first, having a friend living across the sea. We skyped a lot in the first few months; kept each other updated about our lives. But you know how it is, people move on, and we both knew it wouldn’t last. So, we drifted apart.” He explains, taking his bandaged hand with his other one. There’s about a second before Wonpil pulls the younger’s hand into his own, and Jae makes no comment when Dowoon squeezes Wonpil’s hand instead of his own. “It’s okay.” He says. “We had different lives, in different places, I could never ask him to give that up. But I did miss him a lot. He’s a great guy, he was always a great friend.”

“That he is.” Jae agrees, offering Dowoon a smile when the younger looks up to meet his eyes. “Do you still keep in touch?”

“We do. I was in my last year of high school when he came back. He was…” Dowoon chuckles, looking like he’s recalling those times. “He was just the same. Taller, if only just a bit.” Jae snorts at that – yeah, BriBri is a shorty. “But personality wise? He didn’t change at all.”

“Bri has that tendency of always trying to be his best self. I have no idea how that works.” Jae says.

“He really does. Oh, that’s right. One thing was different.” Jae raises an eyebrow. Could it be…? “The name – Brian.” Dowoon rolls his eyes, and Jae holds back a snort. “And I guess… Canada was really good for him. He saw the world, and different societies. Different from here.” Dowoon doesn’t say it, but Jae knows.

“Yeah, I’m glad he did. So, he… he told you?” Jae asks. Dowoon shakes his head.

“Nah, I kind of always knew? I don’t know, I guess when you know a person for that long, somethings go by unsaid.”

“Okay, what?” The two of them look back at Wonpil, who’d been listening but not understanding half of the conversation. “What are you talking about?” He asks, confused.

“He’s gay.” Jae answers casually, and Dowoon chokes on air. Wonpil just hums, in understanding.

“H-Hyung!” Dowoon protests, but Jae just laughs.

“Kid, if there’s one thing I know about Kang Younghyun, is that he’s not ashamed of who he is. Quite the contrary, actually. He’s okay with people knowing, don’t worry.” He assures. “Besides, I have this feeling you’re both mature and open minded enough not to judge him for something as unimportant as his sexuality.” He adds.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Dowoon agrees. “I just, well… after the way his parents reacted, I don’t know, it was a really bad period of time for him.”

Jae agrees. “Tell me about it.”

“But then, he met you.” Dowoon continues, and Jae’s head snaps up. “You know, he didn’t like you a lot at first.”

Jae chuckles, recalling the very first words Brian said to him: _“Watch it, asshole.”_ – classy, right?

“Yeah, well, he wasn’t all that nice either. I was just paying back his kindness. But, what can I say? No one can resist my charm.” Jae sasses, and Dowoon’s eyebrows shoot up. Jae frowns. “What?”

The younger shakes his head. “Nothing, nevermind.”

Jae’s left confused still, but Wonpil doesn’t give either of them the chance to continue the conversation.

“Have you come up with anything so far?” He asks, pointing to the older’s arm. Jae grimaces at the question, and Wonpil sighs. “Nothing? Come on, there’s gotta be something. It doesn’t have to be a cure, you know? Maybe if you could just… I don’t know, take the virus out?” He suggests.

“I’ve thought about it.” Jae nods. “But in order to do that, I’d need the proper equipment. There must be syringes lying around, but I’d need to pull off a blood transfusion. Suck out the infected blood and replace it with healthy one. However, I’m not all that confident about that kind of stuff, not my department. I also don’t have any guarantee it’d work.”

The silence that follows is an uncomfortable one. He knows all too well, that if he can’t find a solution, he’ll have to be put down. And he’s okay with that – well, not really, but if it’s for the others’ safety, then he’ll do it.

“What if,” Wonpil starts, and Jae focuses back on him. Wonpil grips the handle of his sword, looking between Jae’s eyes and his arm. “you can’t find a way? As a last resource, I could cut off your arm.”

Jae winces at the thought.

“I’d die of blood loss, most likely.”

“It’s better than certain death.” Wonpil counters. “You can’t simply expect to co-habit your body with the virus. Your arm is starting to rot.”

Jae does a double take. Co-habit. What if he _can_?

“Jae? Hello?” “Hyung?” He can hear the youngers calling him, but at the moment, all that’s being processed in his mind is that maybe there’s a really easy way make this work.

“Kim Wonpil, you’re a fucking genius.” He says at last, making them snap their mouths shut. Wonpil raises his eyebrows at the statement.

“… thanks?” He answers.

“I have to—I’m going downstairs to check on something.” Jae says, moving to get up but quickly having to hold onto the counter with his right-hand. “You guys stay here.”

“Okay, hold on.” Wonpil stops him, both him and Dowoon getting up. “What is it? We can get it for you.”

Jae tries to hold himself up again, but when he can’t, he simply gives up, sitting down and holding his arm up in surrender.

“Alright, fine. Sorry.” He gives in. “There’s a chance that the pharmacy has a stock of EpiPen’s somewhere in the storage room. They’re not usually sold without prescriptions, unless it’s for schools or something like that, but they might just have a box of them laying around, for emergencies. The EpiPen’s should look like… I don’t know how to describe them, but they probably come in yellow boxes if I remember correctly.” He explains.

“And what do they do, exactly?” Dowoon asks.

“They’re Adrenaline shots. They can have medical uses or be handy during emergencies. If someone goes into cardiac arrest, they can inject adrenaline right into the person’s heart and maybe bring them back. But I’d be using them to feed my arm.”

Wonpil holds a hand up, blinking slowly. “Your what now?”

“My arm.” Jae repeats, looking dead serious. “You see, this virus feeds off of Adrenaline. Well, according to my own theory, it does. Only, to get it, it affects people’s brains, increasing the production of said hormone. It’s also what makes the zombies so fast and strong, and generally more volatile to attack people.” He reveals, glad that neither of the others seem to think he’s crazy.

“That makes sense.” Dowoon nods. “So, you’re thinking that maybe if you “feed” the virus on your arm, it’ll keep the flesh from dying?” He concludes. Jae smiles, taking his hand to ruffle Dowoon’s hair.

“That’s right. You catch on quick.” He praises, chuckling when he notices Dowoon’s ears turn red.

“We’ll be back, then. Hopefully, with those EpiPen’s.” Wonpil says.

“Hyung, are you okay?” Dowoon asks, a worried look on his face.

“You look like you’re about to pass out.” Wonpil supplies, as he grips the sword in his hands tighter.

Jae shuts his eyes, focuses on staying awake. He practically stabbed himself with the EpiPen, releasing the Adrenaline right through his wound. It’s been twenty minutes or so, and even though he can’t feel his arm, it _hurts_. Every time he glances at his left, he notices the skin changing colors – probably a good sign – and it makes him sick.

“I’m okay.” He says at last, breathing heavily.

Wonpil snorts. “Clearly.”

“Hyung…” Dowoon looks at Wonpil while speaking, tugging on his sleeve. Wonpil looks down at it and promptly shuts up.

The pain stops, abruptly, and Jae gasps at the sudden wave of relief that fills him instead. He snaps his eyes towards his left and they widen at the sight in front of him – his arm looks mostly normal, safe for the nasty wound on his forearm. He can’t help the smile that grows on his lips.

“It worked.”

A week later

The bed is too big. Too comfortable. Too _empty_.

It’s dark enough that Jae can pretend he’s there with him. Maybe they’re back to back, and that’s why he can’t see the outline of his body. He leans back an inch, dazed from tiredness, but he stills feels disappointed when there’s nothing more than mattress behind him. He wonders how Brian is sleeping, these days. Wonders whether he too, feels empty without falling asleep to Jae’s heartbeat, much like he feels empty without the comfortable weight of Brian’s head over his chest.

Jae sighs, shuts his eyes, and wakes up with tear stains on his cheeks. Again.

He’s been waking up with the sun lately, a feeling on the back of his mind always keeping him on edge, making him rise before anyone else so he can take his Adrenaline shot, and be human for one more day. It’s been working much like he’d hoped, even though it can’t be considered a cure. His wound is now hidden by white bandages, going from his wrist to just under his elbow, and he keeps his arm in place by strapping a scarf he’d found at inn around his neck.

Throughout the week, Dowoon has made sure to never let Jae alone for long, introducing him to Sungjin properly, who seemed to change his view of Jae quite drastically once he learned the latter is older than him. Jae wouldn’t say they’re all friends now, but he doesn’t hate them. Dowoon is nice, always helpful, but it feels like he’s hiding things from him. Jae doesn’t blame him, they barely know each other, and who knows what kind of shit he’s been through. Wonpil is… lively? Jae doesn’t know how to describe him. Since that first day, between the zombie attack and the finding a way to stop the spread of his wound, Wonpil has become a bit nicer. Jae still doesn’t trust him a lot, and he knows the feeling is mutual, but they speak to each other and the sassy remarks have quieted down, mostly.

He’s also learned a bit about the people he’s living with, where they came from and how they got here. Sungjin explained it to him the day after he got there, telling him about the lab of IN-7 and the fucked-up experiences they’d been running. He didn’t tell Jae everything, but he told him enough. Jae was surprised to see the teens, even more surprised to see the little kids, and completely baffled to see Wonpil taking care of them all. He behaved like a whole different person around the children, almost becoming one himself, and Jae wonders what it is about him that makes Wonpil always be wary around Jae.

“Morning, hyung.” Yeonjun, the oldest among the teens, greets him while he closes to door to his bedroom. Jae’d been trying not to make any noise as he walked through the hall, so he hopes he hasn’t woken the kid up. Jae offers him a smile, trying his best to look nice.

“Morning, kiddo. Awake already?” He asks, trying to form easy banter. Yeonjun grimaces slightly.

“Yeah, I… sleeping is not really my thing. Not anymore, anyways…” Jae feels like punching himself on the mouth.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s alright, hyung, you didn’t know.” Yeonjun is quick to interrupt. He points to Jae’s bandaged up arm. “I guess we’ve all been through some pretty awful crap, huh?”

Jae huffs, nodding. “You could say that, yes.”

“Does it—Did it hurt?” The younger asks, quietly as if he’s scared of Jae’s response. Jae shrugs with his right shoulder.

“It hurt like hell.” He answers honestly, then bumps his right shoulder with Yeonjun’s. “Not an experience I’d recommend, you hear me?”

Yeonjun nods, taking the message. “Yes, hyung.”

The two of them startle at the sound of a new voice sounds behind them, muffled by a yawn.

“Yeonjunie, why are you awake already? Come back to—” The boy promptly cuts himself off when his eyes land on the man standing in the hallway next to Yeonjun. Jae smiles a little at how cute the sleepy boy looks – with puffy eyes and cheeks, and messy black hair. He looks tiny, even though he’s taller than Jae (which, in his opinion, should be illegal).

Yeonjun seems startled, looking between Jae and the sleepy boy, probably wondering how the older might react to a scene like this, but Jae simply smiles at the pair.

“Go on,” Jae encourages, “I was heading downstairs anyway. I think you’re needed here.”

Yeonjun stares at the floor, his neck and ears growing red, but there’s a small smile on his lips as he nods back to Jae.

“Okay.”

Jae reaches the kitchen without bumping into anyone else, but he’s once again surprised to find someone already in the division.

“Ah, morning, Jae-hyung.” Sungjin says, focused on his current task. It seems like he’s making breakfast for a whole army, which, to be fair, isn’t that far from reality.

“Good morning.” Jae replies. “Why are you awake?”

“I could ask the same.” Sungjin returns, without looking up at him.

“Good point. What are you making over there? It looks…” Jae tries, but fails to find a nice way to put it.

“Like shit?” Sungjin finishes. “It’ll probably taste like shit too, but it’s got proteins and nutrients, and we could all use as much of those as we can get right now.”

“Alright. Can I help?” He offers, coming to stand next to him. Sungjin stops stirring, and gives Jae a once over, eyes locking on Jae’s left arm.

“Can you?”

Jae takes his right hand to cover his left side, slightly offended. “This doesn’t make me useless, you know. And as I’ve said before, if you’d just let me go—”

“We’re not having this conversation again.” Sungjin cuts him off, returning his attention to the giant pot in front of him. Jae sighs.

“Sungjin, I know you’re scared, but—”

“But _what_ , Jae?” He interrupts again, letting go of the wooden spoon he’d been using and turning his whole body to Jae. “Don’t, for one second, assume to know how _I_ feel. I’ve never done that to you. I’m not scared. I’m fucking terrified, for myself, and for all the people in this building. What do you know about how we feel?”

Jae lets Sungjin finish, gives him time to breathe, before speaking again.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You shouldn’t.” Sungjin agrees, voice going quiet.

“But my point still stands, Sungjin. I don’t know you, nor do I know anyone here. I haven’t been through the shit you have, but I know we can’t just stay still—let me finish.” He holds a finger up right before Sungjin can cut in. “I know we have to lay low, I know it’s our only chance of surviving here. But I can’t – _I won’t_ – do nothing. We have resources here, we can try to work on a cure. It’s my job, Sungjin, it’s what I _do_.”

“You don’t have a job anymore, Jae.”

“Maybe not, but I have a conscience. And it’s keeping me awake at night to not do anything. It’s killing me faster than the wound on my arm.”

“This isn’t about you.”

“You’re right, it isn’t about me. It’s about everyone. It’s about the people we’ve all lost and the people we can still save. We have to try, Sungjin. I’m not asking you to come with me. I’m not asking you to let come back. I’m just begging you to let _me_ go.”

“You wouldn’t survive a single day out there, by yourself.” Sungjin counters.

“Maybe not, but I need to try.” Jae presses on, and the other sighs.

“Remind me, how was it again that you got yourself into all of this mess?”

“I’ve been in the middle of this mess since the beginning. You know this, Sungjin, you have been there too.”

“You really are a dumbass.” Sungjin says, looking beat. “Do what you want, I can’t stop you.”

Jae smiles, “Thank you.” He makes to leave the room, but Sungjin stops him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks. Jae frowns, pointing behind himself with his thumb, and Sungjin rolls his eyes. “You’re not going anywhere on an empty stomach.”

“So, let me get this straight.” Wonpil starts, resting his elbows on top of the table the four of them are sharing, and resting his chin on his hand. He doesn’t miss the way Jaehyung rolls his eyes, probably already expecting him to say something. “You,” He starts, pointing towards the oldest, “are planning to go back to the lab, hoping to come up with a cure. And you,” He turns his finger towards Sungjin, who’s sitting opposite to Wonpil and next to Jae, “are okay with this?” He finishes, squinting his eyes slightly.

“It’s not like I can tell him what to do. We’re all adults.” Sungjin says, shrugging. However, the look on his face isn’t nearly as calm as his words sound.

“Besides,” Jae cuts in, “you can’t deny you’ve wanted me gone since day one. This’ll be like a gift for you.” He throws the comment at Wonpil just like that, face filled to the brim with smugness. Wonpil turns to Jae.

“I have never told you any of those things you said. I don’t want you gone, I want you alive, because we,” his thumb points towards himself and Dowoon, who’s attempting to turn invisible next to Wonpil “didn’t go through all that trouble just for you to go off and die.”

“He won’t be alone.” Sungjin speaks up, making the other three look at him. “I’m going with him.” He states. He lifts a hand before Wonpil can talk back. “Don’t. I have already decided on going, and none of you can stop me from doing it, not even you, hyung. I may not be a scientist like you, but I’m a fast learner, and if there’s any trouble along the way, we have better chances together than apart.” There’s really no room left for arguing, whenever Sungjin makes arguments like those.

“Who will keep the others in line while you’re gone?” Wonpil asks. “Especially the olders, Sungjin, you know they need someone to tell them what to do—No.” He cuts himself off at the look Sungjin is giving him. “I refuse. Do not. Park Sungjin, you _wouldn’t_.”

As it turns out, Sungjin would.

“Seonsaeng-nim!” Jisung, one of the younger kids, yells, bolting at Wonpil and latching himself around his legs. Wonpil pats his hair gently.

“Good morning, Jisung-ssi. Where are your friends?” He asks, looking around for the little boy’s usual company. Jisung releases the teacher, and points to the corner of the room.

“Seungmin-ssi and Chaeryeong-ssi are there! We’re waiting for Jeongin-ssi and Jihoo-ssi.” He says, smiling so innocently Wonpil almost bursts into tears right there and then.

“W-Waiting…?” Wonpil stutters out, trying to keep a smile on his face. Jisung nods, the pure look on his eyes feeling like a punch to his gut.

“They’re always late, but it’s only polite to wait for a while before starting, don’t you think so, Seonsaeng-nim?” Jisung notes. Wonpil knows, in moments like these, how good his kids are.

“You’re right.” He agrees, forcing himself to keep smiling. “It’s nice of you to wait for a while.”

“Seonsaeng-nim…” Jisung starts, looking away. His tone is suddenly gloomy, and Wonpil grows worried almost instantly.

“What is it, Jisung-ssi?”

“Where is Dowoon-nim?” Wonpil swallows a lump in his throat that’s making it hard to breathe. “W-We miss him… He said he’d play with us, but he never came back.”

“He’s…” What should Wonpil tell him? The truth is the best answer, and yet he can’t bear to lay such a burden on this child – none of the kids deserve that pain. Wonpil takes a deep breath, squatting so he’s at eye level with Jisung. “Look here, Jisung. Sometimes, grown-ups need some time for themselves, to think about certain things. It doesn’t mean they don’t like or miss you. But there are certain things in life that take time.” He explains, trusting Jisung to understand him even with such ambiguous words. “Dowoonie… he’s been having a difficult time, lately. He misses you very much, but he needs some time on his own.”

“But… wouldn’t it be better to come see us? If he misses us too?” Jisung tries, always one to simplify things. Wonpil chuckles, ruffling the child’s hair.

“When you put it like that, it sounds really easy. I wish he could come see you. However, he wants to come to you with a smile, and for that, he needs some time. Do you think you can give him that?” Wonpil asks.

Jisung’s eyes widen, and he straightens his back as quickly as he can. “I—of course we can! All the time he needs!” He states.

“Good. You’re a good boy, Jisung-ssi.” Wonpil compliments. “You shouldn’t keep your friends waiting for long.”

Jisung offers him a sharp nod, one more affirmation that he understood his teacher’s request, and runs away.

Wonpil sighs, trying to get himself back together, but it’s not even two seconds before he notices something else. There’s noise outside the room – loud, angry noise. He frowns, and decides he should probably check it out. Mrs. Kim nods his way, silently telling him she’ll watch the kids, and so, Wonpil exits the room.

Right outside stand are two teens, Yeonjun and Soobin, and Miss Jeong, probably the oldest person in the inn. She’s… scolding them?

Wonpil frowns. “What’s going on here?” He asks, making Soobin, the younger of the pair, startle.

Miss Jeong scoffs at the boys and turns to Wonpil, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Young people these days… they have too much freedom, and end up falling down sinful paths. What a disgrace.”

Wonpil turns towards the teens, who’re both staring at the floor, faces red with shame.

“Sinful paths?” Wonpil repeats. He’s heard similar crap targeted at him before. “Yeonjun-ah,” He calls, having known the boy for longer “tell me what’s going on, please.”

Yeonjun’s Adam apple bobs as he swallows, his face growing impossibly redder as he takes Soobin’s hand in his. _I see_.

Wonpil looks back at Miss Jeong. “Is this what you’re scolding them about?”

“Is it not enough motive? They need to learn—”

“There’s nothing wrong with either of them.” Wonpil interrupts. “Please calm down.” He says, going to stand in between the boys and her.

“Nothing wrong? There’s nothing natural about what they are.” She says, sounding much too sure of herself. Wonpil sighs, knowing people like her will probably never understand.

“What they are is people. How can you scold them for being in love? That’s what’s not natural.” He corrects. “Sungjin-ssi has trusted me to keep an order while he’s gone, and I won’t have you bother these kids because of your false beliefs. Is that clear?”

Miss Jeong seems taken aback, clearly not used to being put in place. “I—”

“Are we clear, Miss Jeong?” Wonpil repeats, raising an eyebrow. He probably looks smugger than he should, but he can’t help himself. The lady huffs, but takes a step back.

“Yes.” She answers at last, turning and leaving in the same second.

Wonpil watches her leave, crossing his arms over his chest. “Good.” He says, even though she doesn’t hear.

When he turns around, Yeonjun and Soobin are looking at him with wide eyes.

“H-Hyung… you didn’t have to—”

“Let me stop you right there, Yeonjun.” He cuts in, holding a hand up. “Are you two dating?” He asks, and the blushes on both their faces is a nice enough answer. “I’m happy for you. At least something good came out of this awful mess.”

“Thanks, hyung.” Yeonjun bows his head, followed by Soobin, who keeps mostly to himself. Wonpil smiles at the pair.

“You’re cute together.” He comments. “And I hope you know your feelings are valid, yeah? There’s no need for you to feel ashamed of having them. However, not everyone thinks the same, as you know.” His smile drops from his face, and the teens interlock their fingers once again. “I won’t ask you to hide this, but I will warn you. There’re plenty of people out there who think the same as Miss Jeong. You’ll see them everywhere, for your whole lives. It’s a bit scary, I know it is, but just as there’re people who don’t understand, there’re people who do. And once you find those people, who will respect and love you no matter what, it’ll become easier. You have each other now, so make sure to rely on one another, okay? It’s easier to share a burden than to keep it to yourselves.”

For a few seconds, they don’t say anything, and Wonpil thinks they’re processing his words. Maybe they’ve read in between lines, or maybe they haven’t.

“Thank you.” Soobin tells him, offering him a big toothy smile. Wonpil replies with a smile of his own.

“Anytime.” He nods, hoping to sound reassuring.

Dowoon startles a bit at the sudden noise, looking behind himself at the door to the rooftop. With Sungjin and Jae gone, there’s only one person who knows the way here. He slides to the edge of HVAC unit and jumps off of it, being quick to brush the dust off his pants and hands.

“Hey.” Dowoon greets, and he’s met with the most beautiful smile he’s ever laid eyes on.

“Hey yourself.” Wonpil says, closing the door, and walking out into the rooftop. “You will not believe what just happened.”

Dowoon cracks a smile. “What?”

“Miss Jeong is officially a boomer, racist, _and_ homophobic. What a triple kill.” The older comments, releasing a bitter chuckle. Dowoon scrunches his nose, a bit repelled by the sour lady.

“What did she do?”

Wonpil crosses the distance over to Dowoon, and they take a seat on the ground, resting their backs against a machine. “Remember Yeonjun and Soobin? The oldest kids?” He asks, and Dowoon nods. “Well, apparently, they’re dating. And Miss Jeong thought it to be her own personal mission to guide them into the righteous path.” Wonpil tells him, rolling his eyes.

“That… is so fucked up.” Dowoon ends up saying, because it _is_. “Are they okay?”

Wonpil sends a smile at the question. “Yeah, I think so. They’re strong kids, and they look very much in love, so I wouldn’t worry too much.” He shrugs, sliding his back down a bit. Dowoon wonders if Wonpil notices the way Dowoon looks at him. He probably doesn’t. “Are you okay?” Wonpil asks.

“Yeah, I’m— fine. How are the other kids?” Dowoon asks, fidgeting with his fingers as the words leave his mouth. There’s not much space between them, a couple of inches they both wished were gone. In front of them, the sun is falling, painting the sky in orange and red and pink. Wonpil turns his face to him, but Dowoon doesn’t know what kind of expression he’s making. He’s set on keeping his stare straight ahead.

“They’re good. Better than expected, given the circumstances.” Wonpil answers. “They miss you…” He adds, voice growing quiet. Dowoon’s heart clenches in his chest.

“I miss them too… I—”

“It’s okay, Dowoon.” The older is quick to assure. “Take your time.”

Dowoon smiles sadly, finally looking back at the older. “You’re always like that.” The words come out before Dowoon can stop them, but when Wonpil’s eyes widen, staring into his own, Dowoon is glad he’d spoken them.

“Hm? Like what?”

Like what, indeed. Dowoon’s eyes drop to Wonpil’s chest, so he doesn’t have to look him in the eyes.

“So... kind. Don’t you ever... get angry?” Or frustrated? Annoyed? Tired? Bored? Of me?

“Huh? Why would I be angry at you?” Wonpil looks genuinely confused, and for that, Dowoon loves him.

“I mean... I’ve been, I feel like—” What is he even trying to say? “All this time, it feels like you’ve been giving, but haven’t been receiving at all…”

“Huh?” Wonpil tilts his head to the side, making a flock of hair fall over his eyes. Dowoon tracks the movement and gently brings his hand to comb his hair back. The older chuckles at the gesture. “Ahh, how can you say that, Dowoon-ah? Do you really feel like you’ve been giving me nothing?” He asks.

“Haven’t I?”

Wonpil sighs, but he’s smiling. “You ask that as if you haven’t just brushed my hair out of my eyes.”

Dowoon blushes. “I— that— no, I mean, _yes_ — but—” He snaps his mouth shut before he can embarrass himself anymore.

Wonpil brings a hand up to cover his laughter.

“You’re cute.” He says, and Dowoon frowns.

“You keep saying that. Hyung, you’re much cuter than me.”

Wonpil hides his face behind his hands.

“Dowoon-ah, don’t do that.” The older asks, face still hidden.

“Why?”

Wonpil sighs, pulling his hands down and staring into Dowoon’s eyes.

“It makes me want to hug you.” He confesses.

Dowoon smiles and opens his arms, the invitation clear. Wonpil scoots closer, erasing the space keeping them apart, and hugs the younger around the waist, burying his face in the crook of his neck, while Dowoon’s nose pokes the top of his hair.

Dowoon makes a quiet sound, a little noise of contentment, and Wonpil looks up at him without really moving.

“What is it?” He asks, voice hushed, even though they’re alone.

“You smell nice.” Dowoon says, breathing him in again.

Wonpil snorts. “Yeah, it’s convenience store perfume.”

“No, not that.”

“Huh? What then?” Wonpil is clearly confused, as he moves the slightest bit, so he can properly look up at Dowoon.

“You smell like… you.”

“Like me?” Wonpil asks, and the younger nods. “And what do I smell like?”

Dowoon doesn’t know. It’s weird to put it into words. Still, he does his best, feeling the tips of his ears burn red as he speaks.

“You smell like... sunshine.” Sunshine? “And fresh breezes in the summer. And the first flowers of spring. And a little bit like... candy—” Wonpil places his index finger over Dowoon’s lips, stopping him from continuing.

“Dowoonie…” He whispers. “If you keep doing and saying things like that… I—I’m not that strong… One day, I might do something stupid.”

Dowoon brings a hand to hold Wonpil’s, taking his finger away from his lips and placing a small kiss over his knuckles. Their eyes meet, a silent – yet loud – question in both their gazes.

Wonpil moves first, using his free hand to inch himself up from the floor, closer to Dowoon. The younger stays still, eyes never leaving his.

“Dowoon-ah.” He calls, and they’re so close now that the younger can’t tell their breaths apart. “I’m going to do something stupid.” He says, and that’s all the warning he gives before leaning in and pressing his lips to Dowoon’s.

_Soft_ , is the first thing Dowoon registers, and he presses back, wondering for how long he’s wanted to do this. Wonpil lets his eyes fall shut, the tiniest frown appearing in between his brows.

When they part, it feels like not enough, and yet breathing is an unfortunate necessity for the two of them.

Wonpil rests his head back against the crook of Dowoon’s neck, and for a moment, the younger panics – _he’s going to notice_. But Wonpil only chuckles, a sound so quiet and endearing, Dowoon finds the corners of his own lips inching up.

Wonpil takes Dowoon’s hand again, and brings it closer to himself, lets it rest against his own chest, over his heart.

“Mine is, too.” He says, and Dowoon understands.

Dowoon lets his hand stay over Wonpil’s heart for a moment, reveling in the way their hearts beat, almost in sync, and then he brings it up, feeling the dip of his collarbones, the smooth skin of his neck, the sharpness of his jawline, until he’s holding his face, caressing his cheek with his thumb, propping his chin up ever so gently.

Wonpil’s eyes are trained on the ground, cheeks stained in a pretty shade of pink.

“Wonpil.” He says, surprising them both at how hoarse his voice sounds. “Look at me.” He asks, begs almost. Wonpil does. “That was not stupid, at all.”

Wonpil’s face breaks into a smile, so wide and shiny it almost blinds Dowoon, but he never wants to look away.

“Does that mean I can do it again?” The older wonders, his voice taking on a hint of playfulness.

Dowoon’s eyes shine, a glimmer of hope and love and just a tad bit of mischief, and he leans down, connecting their lips once more. His hand stays on Wonpil’s face, ever so slightly inching his chin up. As he does so, Wonpil brings a hand over his waist, fisting the back of his shirt and pulling him closer.

The kiss is different this time. Their first was soft and gentle, desperately trying to convey everything they feel, yet afraid of coming on too strong. This one is bolder, surer. This time, Dowoon tilts his head to the side so he can lean closer and deepen the kiss even more. This time, he takes Wonpil’s bottom lip in between his teeth and tugs, and the older replies with a small sound, a moan so quiet it could’ve have gone unnoticed, but Dowoon listens.

Wonpil parts his lips and then his tongue is out, licking over the younger’s lips as if asking for permission.

“Dowoon-ah…” He whispers, a plea for more, to be closer, and what can Dowoon do but comply, open his own lips and meet Wonpil halfway, until their breaths and saliva mix, and they become one.

The trip to the lab is, without a doubt, much calmer than Jae’d expected. They don’t come across any zombies, and the lab itself is empty too. Jae’s glad for it, and even though Sungjin doesn’t say it, Jae knows he’s relieved too.

The first thing they decide to do is barricade the doors and windows, so there aren’t any unpleasant surprises during the night. If everything goes like planed, they’ll be heading back to the inn by morning, and, if they’re lucky, they’ll even eat breakfast with the others. For now, Sungjin drops his bag, filled with food and a couple of blankets, on a corner of the lab, as Jae begins clearing the top of a counter with his functioning arm.

The two of them work in silence – a half pleasant, half awkward arrangement. He’s been trying to warm up to Sungjin, but he finds him to be a difficult person to unravel, even more so than Wonpil. There’s this invisible wall around the younger, that Jae isn’t sure how to get past to yet. So, he keeps his words small and polite, if splashing a funny comment or two here and there, because he’s still himself, and he’s not planning on changing.

Eventually talk becomes necessary, as they dive into theory after theory, sharing possible causes for the virus and speculating about what could work to fight it. They tell each other about the discoveries made on each their labs again, both adding thoughts here and there, and trying to make sense of everything.

“Your theory seems very spot-on, after you explain it like that.” Sungjin comments, and Jae feels a tad bit flattered.

“Thanks. It wasn’t something I came up with on my own, though. I had a lot of help.” He says and tries not to think about his friends – about _him_. He clears his throat in fear of his voice cracking before continuing. “And we’re still missing the most important part of the whole puzzle.”

Sungjin nods. “The cure.” He agrees. “I’m gonna be honest, it’ll be very hard to find anything, especially with these limited resources. But you were right this morning, we have to try. And so, I’m willing to help with whatever crazy theory you come up with.”

“It’s the same for me. You’re very smart, Sungjin, so you know, don’t hesitate.” Jae cringes at his own awkwardness, but Sungjin smiles, so maybe he’s done something right.

“Thanks, hyung.” He says, then gets up from his seat and walks over to where he’d placed his bag. “What do you say we stop for today? It’s very unlikely that we’ll think of anything today. It’s probably better to settle in for now, and tomorrow or the day after we can come back and really get into it.”

“Sounds good.” And maybe, Jae thinks, Sungjin is more willing to let him in than Jae’d first thought.

It’s only when they’re lying down, wrapped around a blanket each, that Sungjin asks him.

“Hey, hyung?”

Jae hums at the younger. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

The question hits him harder than he expected it to, and Jae has to swallow down a couple of times in order to keep his emotions at bay. No one has really asked him that question since he got here – Jae thinks everyone is mostly afraid that he’ll ask it back.

But is he okay? Jae doesn’t know. He’s alive, sure, and he won’t turn into a zombie any time soon. But he’s also alone out here. Even though he knows he can trust these people, it’s not the same.

_Don’t you dare to leave me._

Jae’s heart clenches. He shuts his eyes, but it’s too late, tears have already fallen down his face, from the edge of his eyes straight into his hair. Jae thanks the darkness of the room for hiding them from Sungjin.

“No.” He answers, at last. His voice, at least, doesn’t sound as weak as he feels.

There’s a sound, a kind of rustling, and Jae pretends he sees Sungjin turning to him.

“Why? Is it your arm? Are you in pain?” There’s genuine concern on his tone, and Jae has to sniff up the snot threatening to drop everywhere. It’s a giveaway for the fact he’s crying, but maybe Sungjin could already tell.

“It’s not my arm. I’m—I’m fine.” He says, a partial truth. “No, I… There’s someone I made a promise to… and I broke it.” He confesses, the admission bringing him relief and anguish at the same time.

“How so?” Sungjin asks, ever so cautious. Jae knows if he stops talking, the younger won’t push him, and maybe that’s exactly why he keeps talking.

“I promised him I’d be back. I told him not to worry about me. And now… i-it’s been a week; he probably thinks I’m dead.”

“Brian?”

Jae nods, even though the younger can’t see him. “Yeah.”

“You care for him a lot, don’t you?”

Jae chuckles in the middle of a sob, and it becomes a choked-up gasp. “He’s my best friend…”

There’s a small pause, where Jae wipes his face with his right hand, eyes fixed on the ceiling he believes is there but can’t quite see. Sungjin sighs, like he doesn’t know what to say, and Jae doesn’t blame him.

“Jae, hyung, I don’t mean to be overstepping but, are you completely sure you and Brian are just friends?”

Jae frowns, definitely not expecting that. “What do you mean?”

“The way you talk about him.” Sungjin says, like it should make sense. “I’ve known Wonpil all my life, and I know people have different ways of showing affection, but we never talk about each other _like that_.”

“Like—Like what?” Jae asks, suddenly concerned.

“Like you love him.”

_Love him_. Does he love Brian? His on-the-spot reply would be of course he does, they’re best friends, duh. But this isn’t just something Jae can overlook as a joke. He knows the younger isn’t fucking around with him, and it’s terrifying. He looks back at where Sungjin’s voice is coming from.

“You think so?”

“I do, hyung.” Sungjin confirms. “I’ve never met this Brian, but it feels like the relationship you two have is very delicate. As if one wrong move from either of you could destroy everything.”

Jae’s eyes travel back towards the white ceiling. One wrong move, huh?

He remembers how Brian always cares for him, how the sight of his smile alone can light up Jae’s whole world, how the weight of his head over his chest can calm him down so easily. How when the younger had gotten mad at him before, Jae had _wanted to_ , no, he _did_ kiss him, all over his nape and shoulders. And how Brian’s reaction to that is still crystal clear in his mind – red face, shiny eyes, lips going from a pout to slow rising smile.

_Oh._

Oh God. It makes sense, all of a sudden. Jae’s chest feels tight, his lungs feel empty and yet he can’t breathe.

_I love Brian._

The walk back to the inn on the following day is quiet. They’re keeping a look out for zombies, and Jae is too deep in thought to talk. He didn’t sleep at all the past night; simply laid in the dark, thinking. About exactly how long he’s been in love with Brian Kang. _Fuck_ , just thinking about that makes him want to punch something. Or run. Run as far and as fast as he can until he’s back at SL-3 and he can hug Brian again. He does neither.

Sungjin seems to be considerate, having mostly left him undisturbed after they’d left the lab. Jae wonders whether he’d ever had come to this conclusion on his own, were it not for Sungjin. He figures he probably wouldn’t have. Can he truly be this dense to his own feelings? It’s frustrating.

But it’s not all.

He needs to know how _Brian_ feels. About him. About them.

And he’s pretty sure he knows someone who can help him with that.

“Dowoon-ah. Can we talk, please?”

The younger man looks up, as does the one sitting in front of him. Wonpil keeps his scowl to a minimum, which, in Jae’s opinion, is improvement.

“Hum, sure hyung. Is everything okay?” Dowoon agrees, looking slightly worried – probably because of Jae’s expression.

“I’m okay. There’s just something—can we talk somewhere else?” Jae asks, looking around at all the other people in the dining room. It’s not like Jae cares, but he knows not to talk about certain things when he doesn’t know people well enough.

“You can go to the rooftop.” Wonpil suggests, taking a bite out of his jelly covered cracker.

Dowoon’s eyes widen a bit. “Is that… okay, hyung?”

Wonpil chuckles. “Of course it is, Woonie. Just go already, before Jaehyung has a seizure. You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” Jae nods, then turns to Dowoon. “So, rooftop?”

“S-Sure.”

He follows after Dowoon, the younger clearly much more familiar with the way to the rooftop. Once they get there, Jae leans his back against a big machine, mentally preparing himself.

“I need to ask you something.” He starts, wincing afterwards, because that just sounds threatening. “It’s about Brian.”

“Oh.” Dowoon says. “What is it?”

That’s a good question, Jae thinks. He too isn’t sure about what exactly he should ask. If he should be doing this at all. But he needs to know.

“Did he ever talk, a-about me?” He winces a bit at his own stutter, but Dowoon doesn’t seem to notice it.

“He did. All the time, actually.” The younger answers quickly.

“How?”

Dowoon frowns at that. “Huh?”

“How did he talk? About me. And… us.”

Dowoon seems to realize something, then, because his eyebrows go loose, and he sighs quietly.

“It’s not my place to tell you about that, hyung—”

“Dowoon-ah.” Jae begs. “I—I think I’m in love with him. I need you to tell me. Please. It’s okay if it’s not what I want to hear, but… I need something – _anything_. Please.” God, he is _not_ going to cry again.

Dowoon sighs, but he seems to understand where Jae’s coming from.

“He’s so in love with you it hurts him, hyung.” The younger admits, and Jae stops breathing altogether.

“Wha—”

“He’d never shut up about you, you know? Jae this and Jae that. You became his world.” _His… world?_ “He thinks it’s hopeless, always has.” Hopeless. “I thought it was too. What made you come to this conclusion?” Dowoon asks, and Jae feels his face heat up.

“I… it was something Sungjin said.” He answers, then buries his face in his hands. “Oh my God… I really need to find him, Dowoon… I can’t- I won’t let myself die before telling him.”

Dowoon smiles at that. “Don’t let yourself die after, either.”

Jae mirrors his smile. The crushing weight on his chest is lifted and replaced with a newfound one.

_Brian… please be okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)))))))))  
> You're welcome? Sorry? I don't know what to say, just that this was a big mess and I hope you managed to follow everything that just happened.
> 
> (also, don't @ me for squeezing yeonbin into this, they're my precious babies and i'm dying to write a ffc for them too. until then, they can have cameos :> )
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this little~ chappie. Until next time, stay safe and look out for your health and happiness <3


	7. I Die A Little Every Time I Reach Out, And It's Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knows it isn’t healthy, this behavior, these repressed feelings he refuses to open up about, and yet, he wouldn’t know what to do if he did open up. With Jae, things had always been so easy. He’d make it all seem so damn easy.  
> And now… it’s not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and happy belated Halloween~  
> I'm so sorry it's taken me forever to upload ;-; turns out I can't multitask between uni, watching Naruto, reading AND writing fanfiction. Who knew? :))
> 
> Today's chapter title is brought to us by the beautiful eaJ Park himself, with his song "Otherside" (one of my favorites from his project).
> 
> TW // Panic Attacks  
> TW // Racism (mentioned)
> 
> Also, as for today's dicitonary, I'll leave you with something I myself discovered recently too:  
> Hazmat Suits: A hazmat suit, short for hazardous material suit, is a whole body garment designed to protect the wearer against dangerous materials or substances. The United States Department of Homeland Security defines a hazmat suit as “an overall garment worn to protect people from hazardous materials or substances, including chemicals, biological agents, or radioactive materials.”  
> A hazmat suit is a form of personal protective equipment (PPE), which is often used by firefighters, emergency medical crews, paramedics, researchers, personnel responding to toxic spills, specialists cleaning up contaminated facilities and workers in toxic environments.  
> Link: https://insights.omnia-health.com/coronavirus-updates/do-hazmat-suits-protect-against-covid-19
> 
> With that said, I hope you enjoy the chapter~ You're the ones who said you wanted to know how Brian's doing :) I'm sorry

Realistically speaking, he’s aware the chances of survival are low. It’s been two weeks, so if Jae had survived, he would’ve come back. Back to him, like he’d promised.

Brian has three possible theories in mind: the first, and the one he hates the most, Jae is dead, killed by zombies; the second, and also not very promising, he’s been turned into a zombie himself; and the third, and most unlikely one, he’s alive and well, but didn’t return to the bunker for whatever reason.

He knows, deep down, that there’s no way Jae could’ve survived. He was alone. Brian let him go out there, _alone_. Yet, he keeps telling himself that maybe he survived. That maybe he’s still out there.

The only thing hurting him more than Jae not being here, is the fact he doesn’t know, and has no way of knowing, what happened to him – not in here, at least.

“Mr. Kang?” The voice, however quiet and gentle, jolts him from his thoughts. Seoyeon furrows her eyebrows in the slightest. She looks worried – has been, for the past couple of weeks – but there’s nothing she can do. “I’m sorry. I knocked, but… are you okay?” She asks. The answer is obvious to both of them.

“I’m fine.” He lies, pointlessly. “Sorry about that. Is there something you need?” He shoots the question in hopes of changing the topic, given he feels like both her and Alex have been way too concerned and distressed over him lately.

 _I need to let this go. Let_ him _go._

“Alex sent me. She thinks she might be on to something.” Seoyeon says. “It’s about the virus’ origin; we have been talking about how it might have mutated itself, since maybe that’ll give us a clue on how to find a cure—”

Brian tries, he’s been trying so damn hard, to just stay focused. But it’s like all of his will to live has been sucked out of his body, and now he’s just watching the world in a third person’s perspective. He’s alone.

“Mr. Kang?”

He tunes back in. “I’m sorry. I lost you.” He shakes his head. “You said something about the virus’ origin, right? I think that’s interesting to look into, yes. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I…” Seoyeon stops, considering what to tell him next. Brian knows that look on her face by now. “Mr.—Brian. I think you should take a couple of days off. To rest. Alex and I—”

“And do what exactly?!” Brian snaps, in a sudden burst of anger, which is quickly replaced by regret. His shoulders slump. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just tired. I’m so sorry, Seoyeon.”

“I know.” She offers him a small smile, but her eyes still shine with worry.

“But if I take a break now, I’ll just fall back to the way I was last week… Even sleeping is…” Brian trails off, gripping his hands into fists. “Nevermind. The point is, I can’t do that. Not again. It wouldn’t be fair to you, either. Or Alex.”

“Brian, no.” Seoyeon denies quickly. “Don’t say that. We’re in this together, remember? Mr. Park’s disappearance has affected us all, but it’s caused you the most pain. He’s your best friend.” Brian has to fight back a bitter snort. _Disappearance._ It sure sugar coats it. “We’ve got you, okay? Whatever you need. So, please, try not to blame yourself for everything. There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

But that’s not quite right, is it? Because he could have done something. He could’ve gone with Jae, could’ve at least tried harder to stop him from going. But instead he just… gave in, so fucking easily. If he’d just _tried harder—_

“Hey,” Seoyeon’s voice pulls him back from the pit he’d been falling into. “it’s okay. I’m here.”

And Brian feels like shit, because he knows she is, knows her and Alex would do anything he’d asked, and it still wouldn’t help. Because they aren’t _him_. And he hates himself for not being able to do anything without him.

“Earth to Brian.” Alex is waving one of her hands in front of his face, and Brian blinks.

“Huh? Did you say something?” He asks, furrowing his eyebrows as he looks around. Right, they’re currently in Alex’s cubicle, having dinner. It wouldn’t have been such a big deal if this weren’t the same floor and area where Jae’s bed is too. Brian feels a pang in his heart at the thought.

Alex sighs.

“Look, Bri,” She starts, and Brian already knows she’s going to try and talk some sense into him. Maybe he should listen to her, for once. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear. And I’m sorry, I am, but right now, we don’t have the luxury to waste time.” Her words sting, but deep down he knows she’s right. “Jae took a big risk to get us those supplies. He was stupidly brave to do it again, but he didn’t come back. I don’t want to say it, but we all know what’s the most likely to have happened.”

Brian shuts his eyes. He was wrong. He doesn’t want to hear this after all.

“Alex, maybe you shouldn’t—” Seoyeon tries to stop her quietly, but Alex continues.

“I know it hurts, Brian. I’m hurting too. I won’t ever compare it to what you must be feeling, but you need to take that hurt and make into something you can be proud of. Something Jae would’ve been proud of.”

Brian gasps for air, and it’s only then he realizes his crying. No, that’s not right. He’s sobbing. In a second, he jumps to get up, completely forgetting about the tray on his lap holding his dinner, which ends up scattered on the floor.

“I’m—I’m sorry—” Brian manages to stutter out between gasps. His vision is blurry, but he can still see the worried looks on their faces. _No. Stop. Stop it!_ He doesn’t want them to pity him. He needs— “I need to go!” He breathes out, before stumbling out of Alex’s cubicle as quickly as he can.

He hears Alex call him, but she and Seoyeon don’t chase him. Brian staggers for a while, and when his sight is finally clear enough to see, he realizes he’d subconsciously walked into Jae’s cubicle. A quiet whimper slips through his lips, the pain too hard to bear in silence.

The bed is the same. The sheets are the same. The only thing missing is Jae’s pillow, which is still on Brian’s bed. He almost slumps down into the bed, burying his face into the mattress and tangling himself with the sheets.

It stinks. It hurts to keep his eyes open, and yet, if he closes them, he sees nothing but Jae’s face. His smile – so bright, it was enough to light up his entire world. Brian never noticed just how much light Jae brought into his life.

He opens and closes his mouth, still panting for air. He _can’t_ _breathe_.

He knows, in the back of his mind, that this is the start of another one. He chokes on nothing, clutching the dirty sheets against his chest. His heart hurts. _How do I survive like this, Jae?_ Brian closes his eyes, trying to focus on just breathing. He recalls Jae’s words to him, whenever he’d get too stressed over school or over his parents, and it’d lead him to having panic attacks.

 _Look at me, Bri_ , he’d say, offering a gentle smile, _breathe for me, yeah? I’m right here._

And Brian pictures him in his mind – his happy place. Jae’s eyes, shining with light; his smile, always kind and playful; his arms, wrapped around Brian’s middle, offering as much comfort as he needed. He takes in a big, slow breath. _That’s it, Bri_ , Jae would say, _you’re doing it!_ And he’d sound so goddamn proud. Brian exhales, and repeats the process. _I knew you could do it; when am I ever wrong?_

Brian’s mouth feels dry, from all the panting and hard breathing he does. He grips the sheets as close to himself as he can.

“You were wrong.” He whispers, still shaking uncontrollably. “You lied.” There’re tears streaming down his face, soaking the sheets and the mattress, but Brian couldn’t care less. “I miss you so much…”

He feels himself lose consciousness, passing out from tiredness, and the world fades away into darkness.

When he wakes up again, it’s a bit past five in the morning. Brian doesn’t try to go back to sleep – it’d be pointless. Instead, he gets up, and, after a moment’s deliberation, removes the bed sheets from the bed. He makes as little noise as possible, aware that most people are still asleep, and takes the dirty sheets to the laundry room. Next, he takes a shower, letting the scalding water keep him from passing out again. It feels like he’s been doing this for forever, this messed up routine of his.

He knows it isn’t healthy, this behavior, these repressed feelings he refuses to open up about, and yet, he wouldn’t know what to do if he did open up. With Jae, things had always been so easy. He’d make it all seem so damn easy. And now… it’s not.

Not once do Alex or Seoyeon suggest he goes into the Psychology area of the bunker. They know he’d do better with professional help, of course, but they also know Brian would be dismissed from work, and none of them would want to see that happening. Brian would lose everything. At least this way, he can still hold on to something, even if it’s a job.

By eight, the first batch of military arrive the Hospital area, and, as usual, refrain from speaking a word to anyone already there. Brian had been going over his notes since six, and he’d managed to get through about five pages, when there’s a knock on his office’s door.

He looks up to see Alex.

“Hey, come in.” He greets, looking back down at the papers on his desk. He hears her walk in and close the door, but doesn’t look up. After yesterday, he’s a bit embarrassed to even talk to her.

“Hey.” She says, and he can feel the awkwardness on her side too. “I wanted to apologize, about yesterday.”

That has Brian looking up. “What? Why?” He asks, confused by this turn of events.

Alex shrugs.

“I was too harsh. You didn’t deserve to hear those things, and—”

“You were right.” Brian cuts in. “I can’t afford to lose focus.” He says. Alex frowns at the words.

“No, Brian. I had no right to tell you what you should be doing. You lost someone you love, and even though the chances are small, I shouldn’t have made you believe he—I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

Brian puts his papers down slowly, breathing in and out with practiced control.

“I needed to hear those words, though. I’ve been too lost in my own head. It’s been eating at me, and I can’t focus on what’s important.”

“Your feelings are important.” She says, before Brian can keep talking.

“My feelings won’t help us find a cure.” He states, starting to dislike this conversation. Alex sighs, and runs a hand through her hair. She hasn’t been doing her usual buns lately, and Brian wonders if maybe she isn’t doing so well, too.

“Just… don’t forget you have people you can talk to, okay?”

Brian manages a smile. “I won’t.”

He spends the rest of the morning rushing around between his office and the lab, trying to keep his focus on working. He’d find Alex’s idea to be smart, but no matter how intelligent it’d be to investigate the virus’ origin, it’s still rather difficult to do so without an online server to check data and without the proper lab material to run manual tests and analysis.

By lunchtime, he feels exhausted, the barely four hours of sleep catching up to him, but he presses on, trying his best not to look too run down.

“How are you?” Seoyeon asks, almost right away, as they sit down to eat.

“I’m okay. We need to find a way to go around our lack of means.” He says, being quick to change the topic. “We barely have any information about the virus, and almost nothing on ARD-22 either.”

Alex and Seoyeon exchange a look, and they either don’t notice Brian’s shaky hands, or simply don’t mention it.

“About that.” Alex starts, and Brian’s breathing becomes a bit ragged. “We’re not totally resourceless.”

It takes him maybe a bit too much time to connect the dots, but once he does, Brian needs to sit on his hands, so they can’t see how badly they’re shaking.

“Do you think he b-brought enough?” He asks, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. Alex places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. It’s strangely comforting.

“Let’s go look at the stuff after lunch. What do you think?”

Brian thinks he wants to puke, but he manages a nod and a weak grimace.

Looking at the cabinet filled with chemical containers and a couple of books, Brian can’t help but think how _Jae_ this feels. Everything is in its rightful place, it’s easy to understand what’s similar and what’s not. Brian knows that if Jae were here, he’d say something along the lines of _See, Bri? It’s not that hard to keep your shit organized._ It makes him huff quietly, his smile turning sour. Jae isn’t here.

“… use them.” When he tunes back in, Alex is already speaking, so Brian pretends he’d been listening all along. “What do you think Brian?” She asks.

“Oh, yeah. You’re right.” He answers, trying not to sound too lost. Alex sees right through him.

“I was saying we should look into the books first, and only after decide which chemicals to use. We’re short on subjects to test on too.” She explains, and Brian nods.

“Right. That’s probably a good idea.” He says.

He glances back at the cabinet, and a crazy idea pops up on his mind, but he shuts it off right away. He can’t do it. He _won’t_. And yet, he let Jae do it.

Three hours of reading through one of Jae’s book later, Brian can’t get the idea out of his head. He sighs and puts down the book, marking it with a sheet he finds on his desk. What is it that he used to say? _You’re too damn stubborn._ Brian snorts.

“Not as much as you, idiot.” He mutters, under his breath.

It’d been a little over a year after they’d first met, less than a month away from Christmas.

_“What do you mean you’re staying here?” Jae asks,_ again _. Brian rolls his eyes for the thousandth time._

_“I mean exactly as I told you. I’m staying at the dorm for Christmas.” He answers, plain and simple. “You’re so annoying.” He adds, for the sheer pleasure of watching Jae huff and cross his arms._

_“I am not.” Jae counters, but he winces not even a second later. “Okay, I may be a teeny tiny bit annoying, but you’re more. Period.” He accentuates the last word. Brian lets the conversation end there, hoping Jae won’t bring the Christmas topics again. Last year, they weren’t nearly as close as now, so it’d been easy to avoid topics as personal as these, but now… well, Jae, in general, is very hard to ignore._

_… and it’s not as if Brian had been trying to ignore him in the first place._

_“But seriously, dude, why not go back home for the holidays?” Jae persists, attempting and failing to close his way-too-small suitcase. Brian sighs and gets up from where he’d been laying down for most of the afternoon, on Jae’s poorly made bed. He walks over to the older and aids him in closing the case. It seems like an almost impossible task._

_“I don’t really have a good relationship with my family.” He says, at last. He hopes Jae will drop the topic now, but he should’ve known better._

_“Oh really? I’m sorry to hear that, man. How come?”_

_There it is. The million-dollar question that’s been sure to make most people he’s met steer away from him._

_Brian straightens back up, suddenly met with a very hard decision. If he tells Jae, he might lose him. But if he doesn’t, he’ll have to keep hiding, keep listening to questions like “So, have you seen that pretty girl in Bio-Chem?”, and he doesn’t want that either. He’s so damn tired of hiding._

_“Brian? You okay, man?”_

_“I’m gay.”_

_He freezes a moment later, realizing what he’s said. This wasn’t supposed to happen like that. Jae is quiet, too._ Why the hell are you quiet now?! _Slowly, Brian chances a look at his face. Jae seems… thoughtful?_

_“Are you kidding?” He asks, but there’s no malice in it, no bite at all. Still in shock, Brian shakes his head. “Oh. Well, that’s great. Happy for you, man.”_

_Wait, what?_

_“What?” He repeats, out loud._

_“What do you mean ‘what’? I’m glad you told me.” Brian frowns at Jae, like he’s grown a second head. “I don’t have any problems with your sexuality. If that’s what you were worried about.” He assures, and Brian feels a weight lift off his shoulders._

_“Thanks. I…” I what? What do I say?_

_Jae shakes his head, a smile spreading through his features, shining on him._

_“You don’t have to thank me at all. Thanking me for the bare minimum of respecting you is a bit depressing, wouldn’t you say?”_

_“I-I…” Brian is well aware, but no one’s ever told him that. And now he can’t even say so to Jae. What’s going on with him today? And why does he feel like crying all of a sudden?!_

_“Hey, dude, it’s okay.” Jae says, bringing a hand to Brian’s shoulder. Instinctively, he flinches away, and Jae stops his hand an inch away from touching him. “Sorry, I won’t touch you. I’m not good at comforting people with words.”_

_Comforting? Brian takes a hand to his face, and sure enough, he feels the dampness left by his tears._ Shit.

_“Sorry… I didn’t mean to…”_

_“Don’t apologize for crying, it’s okay. I’m sorry, if I reacted weirdly. I promise I’m okay with it, Brian. I couldn’t care less about your sexuality! I mean, no, wait, that sounds terrible too. I meant it as in it doesn’t change anything with us, right?”_

_Brian would chuckle if he wasn’t already busy trying to stop crying. “Thanks.”_

_Jae fidgets with his oversized sweater sleeves. He wants to ask something. “Is… Is this why you never talk about your family? Do they…?”_

_Brian nods. “They know. It didn’t go very well, as you can guess.”_

_“I’m so sorry.”_

_“It’s okay.”_

_Jae shakes his head._

_“No, it’s not.” He refuses. “And I’m not letting you stay here all alone during Christmas.”_

_“It’s really okay, Jae.” Brian insists, wiping his face dry. “I’m okay with staying here. I can study for finals.”_

_“_ Fuck _no.” He huffs. “I’m definitely not leaving you here_ to study _. No, you’re coming with me.”_

_“I am not.”_

_Jae groans, clearly annoyed._

_“You’re too damn stubborn.” He accuses, but he’s smirking. “Luckily for us both, I’m more.”_

Brian finds himself smiling down at the book on his desk. He’ll need a proper plan, if he’s going to be stubborn.

“What are you smiling about?” Alex asks, waking him up for his thoughts. Brian blinks, picking up the book again.

“Nothing.”

Alex doesn’t say anything, but her expression tells him she’s glad to see him smiling. Brian wonders if she’d be glad still, if she knew what he’s smiling about.

Planning to get out of the bunker is harder than Brian had first thought. Sure, he knows where to leave and where to go from there, but the problem is _when_. Alex and Seoyeon track him like he’s a small child in a big playground, and he hasn’t yet found a way to bypass them. The only solution would be to go out at night, but he’s not so sure that’s a smart move. _If you’re going to get out, you’re already dumb. What’s the difference?_

And so, Brian makes up his mind. He’ll get out of the bunker after dinner, and go to the hospital. He needs to know what happened to Jae. Even if it means finding his corpse… or worse. He has too many uncertainties in his life already, and this is one he can’t live with.

His first task proves to be easier than he’d thought – stealing another fire weapon from the military. Truth be told, when he’d stolen one for Jae, it’d been on impulse. There’s a guard who usually works in the kids’ floor, and he’s a great guy really, he even talks back to you, which is already an improvement from every other guard. But he’s also sleepy as hell, and slipping things from him while he’s asleep on the job is easier than Brian should be proud of. He manages to get a gun similar to the one he’d given Jae in just one day. He keeps it under his mattress, where no one will come to look.

Alex and Seoyeon keep giving him worried looks, but they don’t seem to notice what he’s up to. Alex asks him, once, if he’s feeling alright, but Brian quickly dismisses the question, instead talking about one of Jae’s books.

Finally, three days after he’d first got the idea, Brian makes his way to the far end of the bunker, near the radio room.

As expected, no one is around at this hour, and so it’ll be easy for him to slip away. Before leaving, he checks his bag again, to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything – he has a flashlight he found in a cleaning storage room, the gun he stole from the guard, and a water bottle, because he knows better than to let dehydration get the best of him.

The door is easy to open, but Brian is instantly taken aback by what lies on the other side.

First, he feels the air – the summer night breeze – on his face, and it makes him gasp. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed something as simple as the feel of the wind. Then, everything else hits him.

He makes it only a couple of meters, before stopping again. The streets have no lighting whatsoever, so he’ll have to rely on the small-range flashlight he’d brought. Still, the moonlight is enough for him to see most of the street. And he hates what he sees. Everything is abandoned – buildings, cars, _corpses_. The stench gets to him then, and he almost pukes out his dinner, but manages to hold it in. He can’t make noise; he can’t let them see him.

The moon is high on the sky when he gets to the hospital. He looks up at the building, and remembers how good life used to be, and how little he’d valued it then.

Taking a deep breath, he walks in, flashlight on his left hand and loaded gun on his right one. Lucky for him, he knows the basics of holding the both at the same time, after watching so many action movies. _I used to make Jae watch them too_ , he recalls, but quickly shakes that thought away. He can’t get sidetracked here.

The stairs seem never-ending, but he eventually makes it to the third floor, and the smell of rotting meat makes him whimper. Brian clenches his jaw. _You knew this could happen. Don’t back down now._

He takes slow, steady steps, in the direction of Jae’s old lab. The door is open, and there’s – he points the flashlight at the door, to make sure – there’s _blood_ on it. _Jae’s?_

Brian shuts his eyes, a step away from walking in. _You wanted answers. This is your chance._

His legs wobble as he walks, his body and mind definitely not ready to find out the truth. Brian’s foot hits something, and he freezes, a cold shiver running up his spine. _There’s a body here._ He knows there is one, but he’s too scared to look. He holds his breath in, and slowly – agonizingly so – he looks down.

The body is small – smaller than Jae’s, it _can’t be_ Jae – and Brian sighs deeply, hating himself for feeling so relieved. He moves the flashlight around and finds another body near the first; then another, and one more. Four total, none of which are Jae’s.

He crouches down next to the first body – a female, by the looks of it – and inspects it for wounds. The most obvious one is the bullet wound on its head. _Did Jae kill you?_ Brian looks up, at the other corpses. _Did Jae kill all of you?_

He gets up quickly and moves around the other bodies, checking them for bullet wounds. He counts two on the next corpse, then one, and then two again. Making a total of six bullets. _The entire load._ If Jae really was the one to do this, then he didn’t die here. He might— _he can still be alive_.

Brian searches the lab for Jae’s gun, but doesn’t find it, so he assumes he took it with him. _Why would you take the empty gun?_ As he wonders about the question, his eyes land back on the door – on the bloody handprint left on it.

_If Jae was here, and if he killed these zombies, could he… Did he get hurt?_

Brian looks at the blood mark closely, placing his own hand next to it, comparing the size. He winces as he does so. _It could be his._ He points the flashlight away from the door, and leans back against the door frame. _Breathe, Brian, just fucking breathe._ He can’t let himself fall apart in here. He can’t afford to lose focus, not even for a second, or he might— _they_ might— _Just breathe._

Brian lets his eyes fall shut for a moment, taking his shirt up to try and not feel the stench as much, as he breathes in. He exhales, and opens his eyes again.

_He was here, and he got out. Where the hell did you go, Jae?_

His eyes lock on the floor, and he frowns, pointing the flashlight at it. _There’s blood here too._ It’s just a few drops, but considering they might be Jae’s, Brian decides to trail them as far as he can.

The trail isn’t big nor is it evident, but he makes it back to the main entrance of the hospital by following the blood drops. _You got out of here. Where in the world did you go?_

Brian wants to scream. Jae _might_ be alive. He wants so desperately to believe it. But why didn’t he return? If he was hurt then—Brian’s eyes widen, realization hitting him like a truck.

 _Did he turn? Was he infected?_ The uncertainty is killing him. Brian thinks maybe he shouldn’t have come here. Maybe he… no. He had to know, or at least try. He _had_ to look for something, even if it leads him to nothing in the end. He needs something to just keep him going. He looks back down at the droplets of blood, and decides to do the only thing he can right now. He crouches and absorbs the blood with a tissue, placing it inside a plastic bag and back into his backpack. _if this is your blood, at least I’ll know whether you’re infected._

Brian jolts in place at the sound of a distant scream. He looks around in a haste, but he doesn’t see anything. With shaky hands, he turns his flashlight off, not wanting to drive attention towards himself.

Another scream. There’re people out there, and they’re—they’re _dying_. Brian wants to help, but he doesn’t know what to do. The screams keep coming, and after a second, he realizes – _they’re coming closer_.

Brian’s legs finally move, and he runs, as fast as he can, back to the bunker. He can hear them, in the distance, screeching and moving around, but he never looks back. He hopes – god, _he hopes_ – that none of those screams belong to Jae.

He trips on a lump and falls to the asphalt, rolling on the floor. Placing both hands down, he raises himself back up to his knees. He chances a look at what’d tripped, and almost pukes at the sight of the rotting corpse. _I need to get out of here._ He wills himself to get back to his feet, and keeps running, but as he steps his right foot on the floor, he falls down again, letting out a surprised whimper. _My ankle._

Behind him, Brian can still hear the screams, but there’s no human left in them. _Move, Brian. You need to move._

With a bit of difficulty, Brian rises to his feet, and after a few pained steps, he gets used to the discomfort of running with a twisted ankle. _A problem for later_ , he decides, gritting his teeth in order to keep any sounds in.

He can see the outlines of the bunker, and he runs faster, ignoring the pain shooting through his ankle and up his leg.

Only when he’s inside, back flush against the closed door of the bunker, does Brian allow himself to breathe properly, and to sink down into the floor, clutching his right ankle. It doesn’t matter, he did it. _Jae might be alive._ He needs to know where he is.

“What happened to you?” Alex asks, in lieu of a greeting. She’s leaning sideways against the frame of the door to his office. Brian straightens up on his chair. It’s been almost five hours since he’s returned.

“What do you mean?” He feigns ignorance, hoping to deceive her. He should know better.

“Don’t fuck with me, Brian. Where the hell were you?”

Brian gulps, as he quickly realizes she won’t believe anything but the truth.

“Before you get mad, I want you to know I take full responsibility for my actions—”

“For fuck’s sake, Brian.” She cuts in, throwing her arms up in exasperation. “You went out? _You_? What the fuck were you thinking?!”

“I had to know the truth!” He snaps, jumping to his feet, only to wince in pain. “I had to know what happened. I don’t think I could live with myself not knowing.”

Alex snaps her lips shut, closing the office door, and walking closer to him.

“And did you find anything?” She asks, in a calmer tone. Brian nods, looking away. “Was he…?”

“He wasn’t there.” He answers, wincing at the memory of his lab. “He killed four of them, and then left.” He elaborates, sitting back down. “I don’t know where to. Not yet.”

“He… left?” Alex repeats, more to herself. “But why would he—unless…”

“I know.” Brian agrees. “There’s a chance he might’ve turned. But… we don’t know that for sure yet.” He opens the drawer where he’s been keeping the plastic bag with Jae’s blood and hands it to Alex.

“Brian…”

“I need a favor, Alex.” He asks.

“Is that…?”

“Jae’s blood. I think.” Brian finishes. “We don’t know for sure.” He repeats. “But you can find out.” Alex takes the bag, albeit reluctantly.

“Okay. I’ll do it.” She relents. “But that doesn’t mean you can go out a—”

Whatever she’d wanted to say next is left forgotten, as Seoyeon rushes through the door and comes crashing against her. Brian jumps to his feet on instinct, but grimaces as soon as he rests his weight on his right foot.

“What the hell, Yeonie?” Alex interjects, turning around to face the other. Seoyeon is still too busy catching her breath to reply.

In the meantime, Brian manages to limp his way to near them.

“There’s—just now—” Seoyeon tries, but she’s still panting. Brian holds her up by the shoulders.

“Just breathe first.” He advices. Seoyeon follows his lead and breathes. “Now, what happened?”

“Survivors.” She says. “The military has found survivors.”

 _The screams_ , he realizes. They must’ve been from the people who made it to the bunker. But, if that’s the case, isn’t there a chance that- that…?

Brian can’t help the glimmer of hope that lights up at the word “survivors”. The three of them run, and Brian barely feels the pangs of pain on his right side, his body and mind suddenly filled with a new-found energy.

The entrance of the hospital area is crowded, by workers and curious people along, and so they can’t really see the new incomers. The military is trying to disperse the crowd, but it’s hard, as most people are surprised and distrustful of the survivors. Brian gets it, but he wishes those people would go away. Crowding the place won’t help.

Brian reaches for the shoulder of a nurse he’s seen around the hospital before. The young man turns to him.

“Mr. Kang.” He acknowledges, bowing his head.

“Hey.” He greets, still a bit in shock. “Are there volunteers to check on the survivors? Can I go?” He asks, and the nurse frowns at how sudden his words are.

“I-I don’t know. I think they’ve already got enough medics to—”

Brian shakes his head. “Please. Help me check on those people.” He practically begs.

The nurse furrows his eyebrows, but he must see something in Brian’s expression, because he sighs in defeat.

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.” Brian bows his head, and the nurse goes to talk with some other medical worker.

Brian turns around, and finds Alex and Seoyeon behind him.

“You think Jae might be there?” Seoyeon asks. Brian smiles shortly.

“That’s a bit wishful thinking.” He answers. “But we never know until we know.” He shrugs. The nurse gestures for Brian to follow him, and he nods one last time at his two friends. “Guess I’ll find out.” He says, before following after the nurse.

The quarantine zone is flooded with hospital workers, everyone is either wearing **hazmat suits** , or are on their way to get one. Brian keeps close to the nurse, trusting him to take him where the survivors are; most likely, they’re in quarantine rooms, waiting to be checked on for wounds, and possible infections.

For a single moment, Brian hopes Jae isn’t among them, hopes he doesn’t have to go through this, but that thought is quickly wiped away as the nurse shoves him inside a small room.

“Here.” The nurse says, handing him a hazmat suit. “Put it on and go to this room.” He instructs, showing him a piece of paper with the characters “Q-75” written on it. “This is all I can do.”

Brian nods, “And it’s more than enough. Thank you.”

The nurse offers him one last uneasy look, before shutting the door and leaving. Brian looks down at the suit in his hands and takes a single deep breath. _You can do this._

He steps into the suit with difficulty, his right ankle throbbing now that the adrenaline is mostly gone. Brian sets his jaw and sucks it up – he’ll deal with this later. He couldn’t bear to let an injury pull him out now, not when he’s so close to possibly having answers.

When he walks out, the corridors are still swarmed, but, strangely, being in the suit somewhat makes people walk further away from him, so he can move around freely, without fearing someone might notice he shouldn’t be here in the first place.

Room Q-75 is closer than he’d thought – just down the hall and to the left – and he peaks inside through a square window on the door. There’s no one inside. The room is pretty small – a single stretcher, a round bench, and a medical table in it – it’s only big enough for two, maybe three people to be in.

The room immediately next to that, W-75, looks much different, he notices, and is also immensely occupied. It takes Brian about ten seconds to fully count the number of people inside – 14. His eyes rake through everyone in quick succession, trying to recognize a familiar face. He holds his breath as he moves his eyes from one person to another, his hopes turning into despair as he comes to a conclusion – Jae isn’t here. He grips his hand into a fist – _it’s okay, you can still talk to them. It’s okay_.

Brian jolts at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder, but he’s fast to recompose himself when he comes face to face with a security guard.

“What took you so long?” The woman asks, her glare piercing through him. Brian gulps, avoiding her eyes.

“I-I was, huh, trying to find—”

But the guard is no longer paying attention. Instead, she opens the door of room W-75, and calls out: “Number 1! Follow me.” She orders, and a middle-aged woman steps out, following the guard’s instructions.

Brian starts getting the picture. He’ll check on these people, one by one, in room Q-75, while the rest wait for their turn in room W-75. _Right, W for waiting. Q for quarantine._

He walks into the quarantine room after the woman and the guard, and sits down on the bench.

He knows how to do this, it’s like every other appointment. He just needs to be… more general?, about it?

“You may sit down.” He tells the woman, gesturing towards the stretcher. She glances between Brian and the stretcher, her eyes filled with fear, and nods, taking the seat.

“My name is Kang Younghyun. You can call me Dr. Kang. Can you tell me what your name is?” He asks, trying to sound as gentle as possible. This woman has clearly gone through much trauma already, she doesn’t need a dude fully covered in a white plastic suit to be her next nightmare.

“I-I’m Kim B-Bom.” She answers. “Mrs. Kim, you can call me Mrs. Kim.” She adds, stuttering a bit less. Brian nods, hoping she can see his smile even through his mask.

“Alright, Mrs. Kim. I’m here to check on you, so we know everything is alright. Soon, you’ll be able to shower and get some sleep, but first I need you to tell me if you feel anything out of order? Any recent wounds, scratches, bruises, or other possible injuries?”

Mrs. Kim looks down, hugging her middle a bit tighter. Brian furrows his eyebrows.

“Mrs. Kim, I need you to be honest with me, okay? I’m only trying to help you.” He persists, hating himself for having to force her. Mrs. Kim seems to understand his intentions, though, and slowly pulls her shirt up, revealing her abdomen and ribs. There’s a nasty bruise, all the way across her left side down to her hip, and at least two ribs look broken. Brian isn’t really used to this kind of injuries, but he knows the basics. “Can I check for broken ribs? I’ll need to press a few points to know whether they’re broken.” He asks, looking back up to her face. Mrs. Kim nods. “Alright. Let me know if it hurts too much, and I’ll stop.”

Brian only manages to press two fingers against her skin before she hisses in pain. He removes his fingers right away. Her left ribs are definitely broken, or at the very least, severely fractured. She needs to get an X-ray soon, since her ribs might be pressuring her lungs. If she’s lucky, none of them have punctured them.

“We’ll have to do an X-ray scan. Have you experienced any trouble breathing after this happened? Any blood coughing or air shortages?”

Mrs. Kim shakes head, and Brian nods.

“Alright, that’s good then.” Brian turns to the guard. “She needs to be scanned. Can you take her there? Or call someone?”

The look he receives from her is one he translates into refusal, but she nods anyway, taking Mrs. Kim by the arm.

“Be careful,” Brian reprimands before he can stop himself. “she’s hurt.” He finishes. The guard flashes him a glare, but releases the patient, instead telling Mrs. Kim to follow her.

Brian moves from one patient to another, checking on everyone for wounds, mainly for scratch wounds, and making sure no one is badly hurt, at least physically so. He makes it to number 13 with only two people infected. The military are quick to take the two people away, as soon as Brian confirms they’re infected, and he doesn’t see them again. Brian fears for the worst, even if he knows they had been infected. He still doesn’t want them to die. However, as at some point the guard had told him, it’s not up to him to decided.

Patient number 13 walks into the room with a sullen expression. The woman should be in her middle twenties, she’s got dark skin and very sad, very broken, eyes.

Brian gestures towards the stretcher. “Please, have a seat—”

“I don’t speak Korean.” She interrupts, in English, taking a seat anyway. Brian looks to the guard, who’s turned apprehensive, and back towards the woman.

“That’s alright. I can speak in English.” He answers.

The guard materializes next to Brian. “What is she saying?” She asks, her eyes never leaving the woman, as one hand goes to grab her gun. Brian tenses, and stands up.

“She doesn’t know Korean.” He explains. “It’s okay, though, I know English. I can still check on her. You can put that away. Please.” He asks, not sitting back down until the guard moves back to where she initially was.

“What was that about?” The woman asks, eyeing the guard.

“Don’t worry about it. I was just explaining we’ll be doing the check-up in English.” Brian clarifies. “My name is Kang Younghyun. You can call me Doctor Kang. Can you tell me your name, please?”

“Name’s Iris Henriksen. Next.”

“Alright, should I address you as Mrs. or Miss—”

“Mrs. Henriksen is my mother. I’m Iris.” The woman corrects, crossing her arms. Brian leans back on his bench. Iris isn’t his first unreceptive patient, and he understands the anger.

“Iris, then, have you experienced any wounds or injuries recently?” Brian reformulates.

“I’m not infected, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Brian furrows his eyebrows. “That isn’t what I was asking, but it’s good to know. Now, I’m here to try and make sure you’re alright, physically, and for that I need you to answer my questions.”

Iris is silent for a while, seemingly thinking about what she should say next. After a minute, she places a hand on her left thigh.

“I do have a wound.” She admits. “But I’ve taken care of it.”

Brian puts away his medical file and picks up the first aid kit. “We’ll see about that.”

“You call this “taken care of”?” Brian asks, before realizing he’s still talking to a patient. He quickly clears his throat. “Huh, I mean, I’m glad we’re disinfecting the wound now, otherwise it could’ve been worse.”

Iris snorts loudly, before it turns into a hiss when Brian dabs a piece of alcohol imbibed cotton around the open flesh wound.

“I stopped the bleeding.” Iris says.

“That doesn’t mean you prevented an infection.”

“Well, then, I’m thankful Doctor Kang came to the rescue.” Iris retorts, her tone a bit mocking. Brian fixes her with a glare, too tired to control his expressions.

“You’re welcome.”

Iris huffs a silent laugh. “I think you’re the first person who doesn’t seem to be scared of me, here.”

Brian frowns. “Why would I be?”

“The same reason as ever.” Iris shrugs. “I’m tall, I’m mean, I’m black.”

“As long as you’re not planning to eat my brain, I’m not scared of you.” Brian replies, a flare of anger burning inside of him, against the people who’ve been discriminating this woman.

“So, you admit to be scared of the zombies, doc?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Scared of a bunch of crazy people who want to kill me? I’ve always lived among people like that.”

“I’m sorry.” Brian says, because he doesn’t know what else to stay.

“I don’t need your pity.”

“Good. I’m not giving you any.” He nods, picking up a needle and thread. “Now, you might want to hold your breath.”

“Please—” Iris cuts herself off when Brian begins sewing her wound shut, griping the side of the stretcher to keep her grunts in.

Halfway through, Brian turns to the guard. “You can call the last patient.” He tells her, and the guard leaves. He finishes sewing the wound and disinfects it one last time before getting up to dispose of the used materials.

“Are you okay?” He asks Iris, in Korean.

“Yeah, I’m—” Iris’ mouth snaps shut. She frowns. “How did you know?”

Brian shrugs, as he places new utensils on the table. “It was a guess.”

“Huh.” Iris huffs, slowing getting to her feet. “Well, that feels better.” She says, applying weight on her left leg. “Thanks.”

“It’s my job.” Brian replies. Technically, it isn’t, not really, but he knows how to do this, so he goes with it anyway. “It was nice meeting you, Iris. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thank you, doctor.” Iris nods, shaking his hand.

“You can call me Brian.” Iris furrows her eyebrows in confusion, and Brian explains. “It’s my American name, so to speak.”

“Ah, I see.” She nods. “I’ll see you around then, Brian.”

The guard returns to the room only after Iris leaves, followed closely by patient number 14. His last patient is a little girl – couldn’t be older than five or six years old. She has dark hair, which clearly hasn’t been washed or brushed in days, and both her face and arms are covered in bruises and small cuts. Instantly, Brian wants to protect her.

The little girl has no expression on her face, and her figure and way walking suggest she hasn’t been eating properly either. Brian swallows the lump that forms in his throat – children are always the worst kind of patients for him, he simply can’t look at them and pretend to feel nothing.

He crouches in front of the girl, but she recoils, turning away. Brian quickly understands why – he’s still wearing the hazmat suit. She’s probably scared of him. He quickly stands back up and takes out his mask, revealing his face – and finally taking a proper breath of air.

“That feels better.” He says, to no one in particular. The girl turns back to him, and doesn’t seem as scared. “Hello.” He says, waving shortly at her. She waves back, still untrusting.

“I know this is all very scary and new to you, but I’m here to help you, okay? I just want to make sure you’re alright.” Brian explains, hoping she understands his intentions. “Would you mind sitting here?” He asks, pointing towards the stretcher.

The little girl shakes her head, and moves towards it, taking a seat. She limps a bit on her way, and Brian doesn’t miss it.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

The little girl shrugs. Brian crouches down in front of her so their faces are leveled, but as he does so, his ankle throbs and he winces.

“Are you hurt?” She girl asks back, quietly. Brian smiles a little.

“I am. I hurt my ankle.” He admits.

“Me too…” The girl reveals, looking away.

“Is that so? Would you mind if I took a look at it? I can bandage it for you, and you’ll be all better.” He promises, trying for a smile. The girl shrugs again, but lifts her right leg the tiniest bit.

He holds her right foot with one hand and, as gently as he can, pulls up her leggings until just under her knee. His eyes widen when he sees her wound. _Oh no_.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot, haven’t we? Why don’t we start with your name? My name is Younghyun, but everyone says that’s too long, so my friends call me Brian.”

The girl scrunches up her nose in the slightest. “Brian?” She repeats.

“That’s right.” He nods.

“My name is Jihoo.” The little girl says.

Brian smiles up at her, even as he keeps checking her wound. It’s without a doubt a scratch wound, the ugly black and purple marks of teeth surrounding her ankle. “That’s a lovely name, Jihoo-ssi.”

He covers her wound again before looking at the guard. If he shows this to them, they’ll take her away – they’ll kill her.

“I need a few things from the main office.” He says, hoping she’ll leave. “Can you find me a better first aid kit? This one ran out of supplies.” He asks. The guard is probably ready to murder him at this point, but she nods and leaves the room without a word.

Brian reveals Jihoo’s wound again. “Where did you get this?”

Jihoo shakes her head.

“You don’t want to talk about it?”

She shakes her head again. Of course she wouldn’t want to talk about it, it was likely a traumatizing experience to her, and she is yet too young to be able to deal with these kinds of things.

“That’s okay.” He allows, moving to grab a few utensils. It’s probably pointless to try and heal it, but maybe he can still stop the spread of the infection, somehow. “Can you tell me when you got it?”

Jihoo shrugs, “The other day.”

 _The other day?_ That’s… vague. And yet, a single day is more than enough time for the virus to spread throughout a person’s entire body, even more so a child’s body, which is likely to spend more energy than an adult’s. Normally, a child’s immunological system is better prepared to deal with viruses than an adult’s, but this virus doesn’t seem to be affected by that. And yet, here Jihoo is, talking to him, and not fully turned. How is this happening?

Brian takes a better look at her. She barely has any expression on her face, and anything she lets on is akin to sadness, almost like she’s catatonic. Could it be…? That would explain it, but it doesn’t make it any better. If she’s having a major depressive episode, then it might be that she is currently unable to experience strong emotions, which could be inhibiting the production of Adrenaline. This could be preventing the virus from totally taking over her body, though it would be doing so at a terrible cost.

“I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

Brian’s breath gets caught in his throat, as he looks back up at Jihoo’s face.

“What? No, of course not, don’t say that.” He denies, even though he knows it’s a lie. Jihoo must know it too, because she shakes her head.

“It’s okay. I know I am.” She persists, her expression still as catatonic as before. Brian needs to bite the insides of his cheeks in order not to cry. “My parents are dead.”

“I’m so sorry, Jihoo-ssi.”

 _There’s nothing I can do for her._ Brian feels like beating himself up, he feels so fucking ignorant. He can’t even help one little girl who’s in so much pain.

“It’s okay. I want to hurry… I want to hurry and go see my parents again.” Jihoo says, bringing her hands together and griping them, but still not displaying any emotion on her face.

“Jihoo…”  
“I hope ajhuma is doing alright…” She looks back up, and Brian finally sees the glimmer of unshed tears in her eyes. “She helped me escape, and she kept me safe when we had to leave the basement…” _Basement?_ Oh, Brian realizes, she probably means the bunker. “But a few days ago, the monsters returned. They attacked us and we’ve been running since then. I don’t—I don’t know where she is…” Tears start streaming down her face as she finally breaks, and Brian doesn’t register when it is he gets up and hugs her.

“I’m so sorry.” Why is it he can’t say anything else?

“I-I still remember Seonsaeng-nim too… He tried to save me, but there were so many monsters… I hope he’s okay. Dowoon-nim… and Wonpil-nim too.” Brian freezes. _Dowoon?_ He finds his voice again, and tries to comfort her, pulling away from the hug so he can look into her eyes.

“I’m sure they’re all okay, Jihoo-ssi.”

“Wonpil-nim is very kind, and he smiles a lot. Dowoon-nim is tall, and he looks scary at first, but he’s very nice too. He played tea time with me and gave me candy…” She trails off, wiping a tear with the back of her hand. “If you see them, can you tell them thank you for me?” She asks, and Brian thinks she’s smiling, but he couldn’t be sure. Not when his vision is clouded with his own tears. His heart clenches, the simple thought of a child bearing this much pain almost suffocating him.

“I’ll tell them for you, Jihoo-ssi. I’m sure—” He stops, his voice cracking. “I’m sure they’ll be happy to know.”

Jihoo smiles, hugging him again.

“Thank you.” She whispers, and Brian feels sick to his stomach.

It’s only a few moments later, when he realizes something is wrong. At first, he’d thought Jihoo was crying, but it’s been half a minute now, and her body is still shaking violently against him.

Brian pulls back, going to ask if she’s okay, but when he looks at her face, he pales.

Her eyes have turned glassy, and the black veins that used to only be around her ankle, now continue all the way up her neck and face.

“No, no, no, Jihoo. Can you listen to me? Jihoo-ssi!” He calls, desperately.

The little girl keeps spasming and letting out short huffs, as is she’s suddenly unable to breathe. Brian keeps holding her, not knowing if there’re still any remains of consciousness in her, and then, Jihoo stops, and her head falls forwards.

A tear rolls down her face, and lands on Brian’s suit.

“Jihoo-ssi?” Brian calls.

Jihoo opens her eyes again, and looks up, but her eyes look empty once more. Her stare is glazed and her mouth is hanging open, as if she’s trying to speak, but can’t.

In that moment, the guard opens the door, and everything happens too fast for Brian to process.

In one second, everything was quiet, and in the next, Jihoo was jumping out of the stretcher and onto Brian, holding on to his suit, and clawing at him. Brian yelped and tried, hopelessly, to call out for her to stop. In the second he’d shifted his attention back to Jihoo, the guard had taken out her gun and aimed it.

Brian looked the guard’s way just as she fired the gun.

“No!” Brian screams, but it’s too late. A bullet had already pierced through Jihoo’s head, making her bring her hands up to cover her face, and let out agonizing screams. Brian keeps holding her, even as she dies in his arms. “No…” He repeats, his tears blurring his vision. _I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, Jihoo-ssi…_

In that moment, he makes a promise to himself. Even if it kills him, he will keep his word to Jihoo. He will find Dowoon and Wonpil, and he will let them know she never forgot them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry.
> 
> I promise things will get better, we're just not there yet ;-;  
> Did I just introduce a new OC? Yes, yes I did, and I'm keeping her.  
> I hope you still managed to enjoy this chapter, even though it was mostly filled with angst. Again, things won't always be as they are now.
> 
> In the meantime, I hope you're staying safe. Please always look out for your health and happiness <3


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